Wolf Island
by Clementine Mack
Summary: Hermione has become a renowned champion for the social justice of magical creatures. However things go terribly awry when she undertakes a mission to assess the conditions of the wizarding world's werewolf prison colony. Now suddenly trapped on an island with violent werewolves Hermione must take on an unsavory ally if she is to survive. But can she trust him? [COMPLETE]
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:  
It is several years after the war and Hermione Granger has become a renowned lawyer and champion for the social justice of magical creatures. However things go terribly awry when she undertakes a mission to assess the conditions of the wizarding world's werewolf prison colony. Now suddenly trapped on an island with violent werewolves Hermione must take on an unsavory ally if she is to survive. But can she trust him? **

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**Author's Note: Hello dear readers, thank you for stopping in. This fic will be broken up into several parts but is meant to be more of a novella then on par with my multi-chapter work. Thank you again for reading and please leave a review if nothing than to let me know you are enjoying the piece (those little comments mean a great deal to this writer!)  
**

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 **Part I. Arrival**

Hermione scowled at the scrolls. By now she had them nearly memorized and yet she still found herself rereading the documents in dismay. She was no closer to fully understanding the complicated mess she was currently en-route to handle no matter how many times she read the initial logs sent over from Larkey Island.

Larkey island or as it was dubbed by the press, Wolf Island, was the UK's solution to what to do with werewolves charged of violent crimes. Unable to put them with the prison's general population the Ministry decided to ship them off to a remote island where they weren't a risk to the public or their non-werewolf counterparts. .

 _More like_ _out of sight, out of mind_ , Hermione thought as she rolled up one scroll only to trade it for another. She was all too familiar with the government's habit of neglecting its most vulnerable populations. It felt like the battle to have their voices heard was never-ending and Hermione was in the thick of it.

 _You can't save everyone,_ Ron had said.

Her mind drifted to Ron and their last argument before they decided to end their relationship for good. He had never liked her workaholic tendencies and while it had not been the trip that caused their relationship to fall apart it had perhaps been the catalyst. Their threadbare bond was worn thin by a chasm of differences formed between them long ago.

He had given her an ultimatum: her work or him. She thought his request had been unfair and in the end she chose her passion over whatever they once had. This wasn't about a paycheck, Hermione was committed to a cause of fighting injustice. Why didn't he understand that?

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he had collected his things by now and what life would be like would she returned. Despite their cordialness in their last encounter Hermione knew things would be different.

She shook her head as if to dispel the thoughts, not wanting to mull it over too much further and chose instead to immerse herself in the work before her.

Hermione winced as she reread the document that had incited the investigation to begin with. The list of complaints that had been anonymously presented were nothing short of terrible: inadequate medical provisions, contaminated food and water, and most glaring: incidents of cruel punishments and torture on the prisoners.

 _This case will make you a lot of enemies,_ she remembered her boss saying although he might have said that specifically to ensure she _did_ take the job; Hermione had not doubted the truth in his warning but of course it didn't dissuade her from taking the case all the same. Her reputation as the champion of justice for magical creatures had earned her more than a few foes both in the media and in court through the years and she was not about to stop now.

Even so, she knew without a doubt that she was stepping into a mess of a situation but that was why the ministry had asked her to go in the first place. Her job was simple on paper: Visit Wolf Island, interview the prisoners and guards and report her assessment to the Ministry's subcommittee to see if further action was necessary. In the end whatever decision was made about the prison colony was going to be made by someone else.

 _I just need to provide the facts,_ Hermione thought.

The task was not without its own perils. For one thing, the last piece of information she had concerning Wolf Island was that there had been a malfunction in the wards in part of the prison camp letting loose twenty violent felons into the island's jungle. Dangerous inmates on the loose would have been bad enough but given that the full moon was only three nights away added a little more risk to her voyage. More glumly, according to the warden's report they still had not been able to capture the escaped prisoners.

The ship rocked and jarred Hermione from her thoughts. _I think I have done enough travelling by sea to last me awhile,_ she complained to herself.

One of Wolf Island's unique features was the fact that the only on or off the island was by boat, a fact that Hermione did not learn until after she agreed to the trip. She had only been on a ship once before as a small child with her parents on a cruise. It had hardly been the rocky experience she currently endured on her present journey. The constant sway and motion of the vessel had left her sick for the first two days and she was thankful when the nausea finally subsided. She was happy when the crew informed her it would not be much longer until they reached Wolf Island.

And just then there was a knock on the cabin door and Hermione beckoned the visitor inside.  
"Miss Granger, the captain wanted me to inform you that we are coming up on the island soon. He wished to speak with you before we dock," the young sailor said. He couldn't have been much older than nineteen and blushed behind a halo of blonde curly hair as he spoke.

She saved him the further embarrassment by pretending not to notice, smiling politely. "Thank you I will finish my notes and meet with him shortly."

When the young man left Hermione tapped her wand on the desk and invoked a tidying spell. The loose parchment sprang to life, coiling up and staking themselves in an organized pile within moments. Satisfied, Hermione smoothed the wrinkles from her blouse and trousers as she stood. With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure her hair was adequately tamed for her next encounter, Hermione took the steps to the deck of the ship in search of the ship's captain.

She was greeted by a mist of sea water coming up over the vessel's main deck. The breeze actually felt refreshing compared to the musty air of her cabin interior. It did not take long for her to find the captain. The old man was standing in front of the helm and reminded Hermione of a storybook pirate. His face was red and leathery from a life at sea, hair bleached from the harsh sun.

He saw Hermione approach and gave a polite nod, "The island's afternoon fog has made visibility low but we should be docking in the next hour."

"Oh that's good news," Hermione said. "Have you heard any word on whether the wards are back up yet?"  
"Ma'am they don't tell us that sort of thing, you'll have to ask yourself," he answered bluntly and after a pause added. "But I would guess not as last comms said there would be a full security escort waiting for us."

Hermione nodded as she processed the information. She wasn't surprised by the news that there would be a security escort, the witch had assumed as much given the state of matters.

"You should know, once we unload you and replenish supplies we are not going to stay in dock," the captain said to which Hermione raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"You are leaving me there?" Hermione asked. She wasn't particularly happy about being stranded on the island.

"We will return in three or four days, ma'am. It's protocol given the island's threat level for us not to linger about. Can't have any of those nasty monsters taking ahold of the boat."

She shot him a glare at his description of the inmates. "Regardless of their crimes, they are still human beings."

"Sorry, ma'am," he drawled with not an ounce of sincerity. "I'm more of a cat person myself."

Hermione shook her head and walked away despite that there was much she could have said to the old captain in that moment. Her temper flared but she wasn't going to get into it with the man when she had more pressing matters to prepare for.

 _I can handle this. I can make it three to four days on the island,_ she thought to herself as she went back to her cabin for the rest of the voyage. Despite repeating the words several times to herself Hermione reluctantly admitted she remained unconvinced.

As the captain predicted they arrived on the island an hour later under a thick veil of fog. The jungle landscape was engulfed in gray clouds that seemed to descend from the mountains dotting the horizon. On the shoreline appeared what must have been the island's port. It was a large dock but as Hermione predicted, there were no other boats.

About six wizards in somber uniforms greeted her. One of the wizards had a gold bar on his collar and was the first to approach Hermione as she off boarded the vessel.

"Miss Granger we have been expecting you. I am Mortimer Williams, head of operational security and I will be leading your escort detail."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Officer Williams. When can I meet with Warden Connelly? I have some important things I need to address with him."

The other wizards traded uneasy looks amongst each other. Williams cleared his throat before answering her question, "I don't think that will be possible Miss Granger. You see when the wards went down we lost contact with the warden and the officers that were in that sector. No one has been able to get over there to assess what exactly is going on. The entire main facility is off limits and we are currently operating out of the windward site where there are about 10 inmates still detained."

Things were indeed worse than Hermione could have imagined. A part of her considered getting back on the boat and going back until things were better under control but Hermione was noble to a fault and quickly decided that time was of the essence for her report.

"Okay. Well I suppose we should get going to the site then?" Hermione eventually replied.

"Yes ma'am, we should definitely do that. This is an anti-apparition location and the floo is also down so we will need to travel by broom."

 _Fantastic,_ Hermione said silently. She wasn't fond of heights and had never cared for travelling by flight but she was at least satisfactory in using a broom.

"My men will take your luggage. Are you able to ride on your own?"  
"Yes," she said as he handed her a broom. It was nothing like the fancy styles Harry and Ginny coveted but Hermione wasn't picky as long as it kept her in the air.

They travelled along the coastline, zipping across the sand at a speed Hermione wasn't entirely comfortable with but was determined not to make a fuss. Altogether it was a smooth twenty five minute flight but Hermione was relieved to see the stone towers that marked their destination. She felt uneasy out in the open.

Hermione could see the silhouette of two guards perched high above. One of them made a gesture and the large metal and wood gates swung open for the group to fly in. The gates just as quickly shut as Hermione and the others dismounted from the brooms. One of the officers escorting her took the broom to put it back with the others.

The inside of the fortress was not completely indoors but comprised of what looked to be smaller buildings and large tents built on top of red dirt soil. They were surrounded by large stone walls and nothing else.

"The ceiling is one big ward, keeps the rain out for the most part but you will still have to deal with mosquitos," Williams said as he noticed her peering at her surroundings.

"May I ask where are the inmates kept?" Hermione asked.

Williams pointed to the distance, "They are in the north half of the site."

Hermione nodded. "Good, I would like to begin my interviews immediately."

The officer hesitated. "I don't know about that ma'am, surely in the morning would be best? You must be quite tired from your travels."

Hermione inspected the wizard's expression with mild suspicion but conceded as a yawn escaped her lips. She was in fact _exhausted_ from hardly sleeping on the boat trip to the island. The next several days were going to require a great deal of mental stamina and years of self-punishing behavior had taught her to heed her body's signs a little more diligently. She did need the rest.

"That will be acceptable then, first thing in the morning. If at all possible I would like to see a roster of the current inmates you have here by tonight though."

"I can do that," Williams said and seemed relieved that Hermione did not push the issue of doing interviews that the evening. "I will have one of my men bring it by in a bit. If you will please follow me I can show you your quarters now."

Hermione's abode was a makeshift barracks room. It was hardly glamorous but then again Hermione had lived in far worse conditions. By early evening she was in the middle of casting several tidying spells to rid the room of its accessory film of dust when there was a knock on the door. True to his word Williams had made sure the roster was delivered.

Hermione sat on her bed and quickly scanned the names of the werewolf inmates. Some of the names she vaguely recognized from past cases she had read about at one time or another but one name in particular stopped her in her tracks.

 _Fenrir Greyback_

Hermione's heart began racing and she had to quell the anxiety that just seeing the name inspired in her. Of course she should have at least considered that he would have been on the island. And yet she had put that particular werewolf out of her mind for many years.

Her mind flashed to their encounter years ago and how close she had come to becoming one of his many victims. She could still envision those lethal gold eyes staring down at her.

Hermione forced herself to banish her fears. It did not change anything that he was here. She still had a duty to carry out. But all the same Hermione struggled to fall asleep that night. She tossed and turned before eventually falling into a restless slumber where Hermione dreamed of those familiar gold eyes watching her from the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note** **  
Hey dear readers, I am jumping between updating this fic and Untamed (my other fenmione WIP) without any set schedule. Grad school has started back up for me so intend to update when I can. Thank you for understanding!**

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Hermione awoke the next morning feeling like she had been run over by the Hogwarts Express. The long voyage accompanied with a fitful night's sleep had left her groggy when the morning revelry played across the camp. She got dressed slowly, slipping into her standard attire of simple slacks and a dark button up blouse. Fashion had never been her forte and Hermione preferred an utilitarian wardrobe on most days.

She fussed with her curly hair briefly before resigning herself to the island's humidity and putting it in a bun. Hermione jumped at the sudden rapping at her door and was greeted by Officer Williams carrying a small cafeteria tray, a bottle of water and a packaged MRE.

"Morning ma'am, I wanted to personally check in to go over the day's itinerary," he said in a clipped matter-of-fact tone. It was hard to tell if he was having a good or bad morning but the more likely answer was that his glumness was part of his natural disposition.

"Thank you officer," she greeted and let him into the room. He sat the tray down, taking a seat at the would-be desk. A cloud of dust condensed in the air as he seated himself in the armchair.

"I brought you a MRE for breakfast; you will have to excuse us for such meager accommodations but we are under strict rations these days."

"It's quite alright." Hermione nodded graciously, reading the directions before tapping her wand against the MRE's outer package. The parcel exploded with a small pop revealing the ready-made meal: a stale biscuit with a sad shrivelled piece of bacon and something that vaguely resembled eggs. Hermione contented herself with warming up a cup of tea instead. She poured the contents of the water bottle she had been provided into her favorite mug she had brought with her for the trip. With a heating spell she readied the water and put in the packet of tea she had also brought along with her. She liked to bring with her a few creature comforts whenever she travelled; it was perhaps a force of habit from the time she spent on the run hunting horcruxes with few luxuries.

Williams watched in polite silence, his mouth a narrow line. If he had any judgements about her little ritual he said nothing of it. Setting aside the food while taking out her quill and notepad, Hermione took a seat opposite of the officer.

"Are supplies often an issue here?" Hermione asked.

"Ma'am?" Williams hesitated, glancing first at her notepad before looking back at Hermione.

"You're not in trouble Officer Williams. I am here to help but I need to know exactly what's going on in order to do so. If there is an issue with supplies perhaps I can send back word to improve matters for everyone. But I think we agree this needs to be a joint effort."

She could see the distrust in his expression although he tried to keep up a veil of professionalism. Hermione had gotten exceptionally good at reading people on the stand and it was no different with the wizard in front of him. He was hiding something but she could not be sure what exactly.

"It's just the same old, same old. We lack adequate funding and no one in the ministry wishes to spend a galleon more than they must to keep this place running. Provisions for werewolf felons are not exactly a high priority."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "May I perhaps see a copy of the last quarters' spending?"

Williams shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he shook his head, "I do not have access to such things. Those records are locked away in the warden's office."

"Ah, the same office that is currently inaccessible?" Hermione asked, although they both knew the answer.

"The one in the same," he replied.

"And speaking of which, what is being done about securing the main facility and rescuing those still there?"

"It is a complicated issue. We are trying to get comms up and planning a recon team as soon as possible."

"Do you think you will need more forces in order to take back the main facility?" Hermione said. She had not moved her quill even once during their conversation, leaving instead a blot of ink on the plain white paper. Her intuition told her that so much about the current circumstances felt off and moreso that the allegations that drew her here were likely true. And yet it was hard to untangle the mess: was it just incompetence that lead to the problems at hand or was there something else going on?

"We prefer to handle things internally around here, ma'am," Williams replied. Hermione pondered over his words. Surely he wasn't going to let pride govern his decisions? She had seen his numbers and wondered how the guards he had on staff would be able to take back the fallen area.

"I see," she said, still thinking.  
"We can begin the interviews in an hour if you would like," he eventually said, clearly looking to end the conversation.

She was not sure Williams was a reliable confidant to relay her concerns and so Hermione kept them to herself. The witch nodded and handed him a list she had made the night before. "Thank you, here are the ones I would like to speak with first."

"Very well Miss Granger," and with a curt nod he left.

Hermione jotted down a few notes from their discussion feeling the weight of her suspicions begin to grow. Where was the funding going? She wondered. Hermione had recalled the millions and millions of galleons invested in Wolf Island at the Ministry's discretion. It had been controversial at the time, she remembered, because it seemed like such an outrageous budget for a prison colony.

 _Unless they were using the funds for something else?_

Hermione's demeanor darkened. Perhaps the warden was embezzling the money; it would not have been the first case of corruption Hermione had seen. But then again something felt off about the situation still. She continued to wonder how much Officer Williams knew and what more was she to uncover. The rabbit hole she had stumbled was already growing deeper.

An hour ticked by, her food untouched, as she set off to begin her interviews with the inmates. The space they had set up for her was nothing more than a large tent. It had the furnishings of an office only the furniture had been charmed to the floor, a likely precaution to avoid the chairs and desk becoming weapons by an inmate.

The first inmate that was lead inside not what she had expected. He was a small mousey looking man that looked frail compared to the two guards standing on either side of him. He flinched constantly as they sat him in the chair, unwilling to meet her gaze for even a fraction of a moment.

"Good morning," she tried to say with warm professionalism and he seemed startled, as though he had been unaware altogether of her presence despite the fact that she sat in front of him. She had met prisoners that had once dwelled at Azkaban and he reminded her of the hollow look in their eyes. "My name is Hermione Granger and I am going to be asking you a few questions today. Can you please state your name for the record?"

He merely trembled, fidgeting with the frayed ends of his uniform. Hermione waited a moment before repeating the question. The inmate continued to say nothing until one of the guards bellowed:

"Inmate, she asked you a question and you better damn answer it!"

Hermione flashed the guard a disapproving look. She wasn't about to have her interview steamrolled by a meathead with an attitude. Rather than correct his tone Hermione merely asked both guards to stand outside the entrance. They looked surprised and tried to argue with her but Hermione stood her ground.

"Please, leave. If I need anything you two will be just outside the doorway."

After several long moments they reluctantly did as she asked and Hermione turned her attention back to the inmate.

"Your name, please."

"Zulu-12-98-Echo," he said quietly.

"What? No, not your prison identification number. Your-" Hermione said with a confused expression.

"That is the only name I have now," he said in a strange monotone.

Hermione quickly looked down at her paper to ascertain the inmate's actual name before continuing forward. "Timothy Bowsher is your name, isn't it?"

He clenched his jaw in visible agitation, shaking his head violently. "No, no no no. Not Timothy. I am zulu-12-980-Echo. I am zulu-12-980-Echo... zulu-12-980-Echo" He repeated himself over and over and Hermione winced inwardly at the state of the inmate. She wasn't sure what she had expected but not this.

"Okay," Hermione said with a softer tone. "Let's try talking about something else then. Can you tell me what life is like here on the island?"

The inmate was rocking back and forth, a low growl emitting from his lips. He still would not make eye contact with Hermione so she moved closer.

" _Timothy?"_

The werewolf snapped, his head shooting upward and suddenly his gold eyes were fixated on Hermione with a feral gaze. He lurched in his seat but was restrained by the charmed cuffs binding his arms and legs. Hermione took a quick step backwards in surprise.

The inmate quickly became incensed, fighting violently against the magical binds that kept him from attacking her. Hermione called out and the two guards rushed in to take the inmate away. She tried to pretend that she wasn't rattled but Hermione couldn't help how hard her heart was clanging in her chest.

The next five interviews were unfortunately just as bad if not worse. Almost all of them ended with the guards dragging the inmate away before Hermione could a single answer. By the time noon rolled around Hermione was both tired and frustrated.

"You shouldn't be surprised Miss," the large guard said after the last inmate was stunned and carted off. "These are the worst of the worst creatures around. None of them had a lick of sense when they got here."

Hermione sighed. She confronted opinions like this every day in her line of work but at the moment she was feeling defeated by the rate in which the interviews had been going. And then she looked at the list of werewolves and her gaze drifted to the very bottom. She stared at Fenrir Greyback's name for a little too long before deciding what she was to do next.

Hermione had wanted to avoid speaking to that particular inmate for as long as she could but it seemed unavoidable now. Hermione still had his image burned into her memory: menacing but sharp. He had been lethal but she knew just from having faced him in battle that he was a brilliant strategist and leader. He wasn't what the guard had described at all as being "senseless" and Hermione was determined to see for herself. She secretly wondered if he would still be the same shrewd werewolf as before or if he had succumbed to madness as well.

She requested that Fenrir be brought next and the guards looked at her begrudgingly before conceding. When they reappeared a few minutes later at the tent's entrance Fenrir was standing between them just like all the other prisoners had done so before him. Fenrir towered over the other two wizards looking a little disheveled but surprisingly little had changed about his appearance in the past few years.

"Hermione Granger," Fenrir greeted first. Hermione said nothing, forcing herself not to become unnerved by his presence as she watched him enter the space. She absently patted the wand holistered on her back as a reminder that she had the upper hand. He was subdued with heavily reinforced binding spells and two guards accompanied him. Hermione told herself several times that she was in control.

She waited until he was seated, albeit a bit too casually in the chair, and the guards had departed to their station outside the door. He tilted his head to the side in curious amusement, "It's been too long, love. Did you miss me?"

"Hardly," Hermione retorted. Clearly he still had his wits about him as much as ever before. She was surprised to find comfort in that. At least one thing in this whole situation was consistent. Hermione wasn't sure what her next step would have been if he too had unravelled into madness like the others.

"Well I missed you," he said with a wicked smile.

"Can you state your name for the record?" Hermione said, trying to ignore the bait.  
"I could," he replied and Hermione huffed when he did not elaborate. _Yes, definitely still the same werewolf,_ she thought drily. She had worn through her patience several interviews ago, which wasn't to say she would have had much for this particular werewolf to begin with.

"Come on now, it's not every day I get to spend quality time with a pretty witch. Can you blame me for stalling? I just want to catch up and see what's new in your world. If you could imagine news doesn't travel very fast in these parts or at all really."

Hermione flushed despite herself as she put down the quill abruptly. Her brown eyes narrowed, meeting Fenrir's golden ones with a level gaze. "Enough, I am not here to chit chat with you. I have a few questions and either you answer them or I have guards come back and take you away. Do you understand?"

"If you insist," Fenrir said, looking only mildly disappointed. "Ask away."

"Thank you," Hermione said and exhaled as she collected her thoughts. "Can you please describe your living conditions here on the island?"

He arched a brow, "Living conditions? If Hell was a mosquito-infested cesspool floating in the atlantic ocean that would be Wolf Island."

"That is a very colorful description," Hermione said.  
"Thank you I've been working on my poetry since we last met," Fenrir said and Hermione could not gauge from his expression if he was being serious. Nonetheless she was about to remind him to stay on topic when he added in a very quiet voice so the guards outside could not hear him. "But I don't think you care about that. I am sure you would much rather talk about the experiments."

Hermione's blood ran cold. She looked towards the open door and made sure to match Fenrir's quiet tone, "Tell me everything, Greyback. What's going on?"

Greyback leaned forward and was about to speak when there was a loud deafening crash outside that shook the floor beneath them.

"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! EVERYONE GET TO YOUR STATIONS!" A guard shouted from outside the tent.

Hermione drew her wand, moving cautiously to the entrance and saw the commotion unfold as the wizards ran about the camp. A siren began to blare overhead adding further confusion to the chaos. Hermione couldn't tell what had caused the explosion but when she looked upward the normally clear wards were looking fractured and patterned with lavender streaks.

"What's going on?" She asked as a guard raced towards her.

There's been an attempted breach so we are on lockdown. Officer Williams instructed us to get you to safety," one of the guards said.

Hermione looked back at Fenrir who was half turned in his seat, unable to leave on his own accord. He wore an unreadable expression and said nothing, merely watching from where he sat. "We'll catch up later. See you around, Hermione," Fenrir said casually. She wasn't keen on ending their conversation but realized that she wasn't in a position to demand further answers as the guard was tugging at her arm.

"Ma'am we have to go. The bloody inmate will be fine, the guards are going to return him to his unit."

Hermione obliged the guard, following in his hurried steps. She clutched her wand defensively as they moved, unsure of what to expect. The guard returned her to her quarters, instructing her not to leave until the all clear was given. Hermione nodded in understanding and waited several minutes before opening her door slowly once she was sure the guard was gone.

 _Better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission,_ Hermione thought as she crept out the door.

The sirens were still blaring but she could here the muffled shouts of guards on the far wall of the camp. Hermione followed the commotion taking care to remain unseen.

"Help me…."

The voice caught her off guard and Hermione spun to see the inmate from earlier in the day. Timothy was kneeling in the middle of a bare enclosure, his limbs bound in what appeared like a full body straight-jacket. But most alarming were the dangerous red hue of his glowing eyes. Hermione had never seen anything like it in all the werewolves she had interacted with over the years.

"What's happened to you?" Hermione said although she did not move any closer to the enclosure.

"I'm sick-k-k," he stuttered over his words before trailing off into a snarl. His mouth began to foam as he raged, baring deadly fangs as he snapped at her.

"Kill her, kill her, kill her, KILL HER!"

Hermione was trying to double back when she ran into Williams. The captain of the guard looked furious, "What are you doing back here? This area is off limits, Miss Granger! and I believe I had given word to stay in your room."  
The witch looked at Williams with wide eyes, still puzzled over what she had just witnessed. "I only came to see if I could help."

"You can help by doing as I told you to do," he said angrily. "Get back to your quarters at once. I have too much going on here ma'am to be babysitting you!"

This time Hermione did as she had been asked, going back to her room and remaining there even as the sirens blared outside. She couldn't help but notice this time Williams had posted a guard at her door anyways. Hermione sat on the edge of her bed and replayed the day's events with growing trouble. She would confront Williams about the state of the inmates, particularly what she had witnessed with Timothy. But as the questions added up one thing became certain: Hermione needed to speak to Fenrir and uncover just what was going on.

"If you so much as move a muscle Greyback I will Avada your arse," the guard spat as he shoved the werewolf back into his cell. Fenrir stood with his back against the wall and merely smiled at the guard.

"I wouldn't dare," the werewolf said.

The guard scowled at the inmate once more before slamming the gate shut and darting off to join the rest of the fray.

Fenrir glanced in the direction the guard had gone in, wondering if the attack would be successful. It was only a matter of time before this place fell. Surely the guards knew that as well as he did?

 _This whole island has gone mad,_ he said silently. The werewolf's thoughts went back to the curly-haired witch. He had felt the pull of her presence like fingerprints on his mind ever since she stepped foot in the camp. _She isn't safe here_. For that matter, neither was he and between the two he was certain his life was held in a little more precarious position.

Fenrir wasn't sure why Hermione's fate meant anything to him but he couldn't shake his wolf's instincts that kept urging him to seek her out. It was a powerful driving force that the mortal part of Fenrir found puzzling.

 _She's just a witch like any other,_ he tried to reason. But the wolf within him knew better. It knew what hold Hermione had on him and the magical bond that intertwined their fate even when Fenrir could not admit it to himself yet.

Hermione Granger was many things but never simply _just_ a witch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hey dear readers, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Currently I am waiting out Hurricane Lane; hopefully if we do lose power it won't be for very long but be prepared for delays in an updates. Thank you!  
**

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 _It was dark and it took Hermione a moment to notice she was not in the barracks room anymore but her own bedroom back in London. Everything looked as it always did, even the vase of white roses she had on her nightstand was still there. Among other things however, she also realized she was not alone. Fenrir Greyback was sitting on the windowsill with his gold eyes shining in the waxing moon's light. Her breath hitched from momentary surprise but she strangely she wasn't afraid._

 _I should be though, Hermione thought to herself. However the fear didn't stir in her. Something else did. Lust._

 _She bit her lip and he grinned mischievously, slowly moving towards her with the same want and desire radiating off of him. Hermione did not wait for him to cross the bed but instead moved to meet him at its edge, her lips finding his with a slow-burning kiss that left her moaning for more. His rough hands tugged away her silk chemise top, stripping away here clothes with such particular deliberation it began to drive Hermione a little mad._

" _Patience," he whispered, his hot breath in her ear. "The night is still young."_

 _A vague part of Hermione's logical conscious side tried to remind her that this had to be a dream but this fact was overwritten by a much more compelling argument: quite simply she didn't care._

 _As he removed her panties Hermione was greedily helping him undress. Fenrir's hands snaked between her inner thighs as he pushed her back against the bed. He was leaving a path of kisses up her legs causing her to grab the bedsheets in agonizing desperation.  
_

" _How badly do you want this?" He purred.  
_

Hermione sat up and gasped, rising clumsily to the jarring sound of morning revelry. She was back in the barracks room once more, her eyes darting around the room to confirm her location. She was still wearing her clothes from the day before as she guessed she must have fallen asleep while waiting for the lockdown to be lifted. The witch cursed several unladylike expletives as the tendrils of her dream still lingered in her mind. Hermione tried to banish the mental picture of Fenrir Greyback and the thoughts it conjured.

 _I am taking that dream to my grave,_ she vowed.

Hermione didn't let herself ruminate too long on the nature of the dream or whatever had inspired her brain to even go _there_. Instead she quickly dressed in a fresh outfit, fixing herself up briefly before tearing out of her room with a determined stride. The witch only glanced back to realize the guard was no longer stationed outside her door. That was probably for the best, she said silently. There would be hell to pay for anyone that tried to stop her this time.

She wasn't going to be deterred from her mission. Hermione had spent many long hours the night before mulling over the day's events: the state of the inmates was unsettling but more so of what had become of the werewolf Timothy. Hermione knew to trust her intuitions but she also needed firm proof to justify the allegations. _A confession from Williams will do just fine,_ Hermione thought. After witnessing the bizarre condition of Timothy there was no doubt in her mind that the captain of the guards knew more than he was letting on.

The guard posted outside the captain's office tried to stop her but she pushed passed him and abruptly shut the door in the young man's face.

"Good morning Miss Granger," Williams said. He didn't look up from his paperwork and there was an icey tone to his greeting.

"Hello Officer Williams, I believe there are some things we must discuss," she said, mimicking the professional coldness of the wizard's voice.

"Yes, certainly. Let's start with what you were doing in the restricted area during yesterday's attack," Williams said, turning now from his paperwork to meet her gaze.

Hermione seated herself. "I told you I was trying to help. But I am glad you brought that up. I am very concerned by what I saw."

"And what is it you think you saw, Miss Granger?" The older wizard asked, his gray eyebrows arching in a curious expression. Hermione realized he was testing her. Williams was baiting her to see how much she knew already before he ran the risk of revealing something new. _And likely something that would condemn himself._

She thought back to what Fenrir had said briefly in his interview and the mention of the experiments. She considered what she had seen of Timothy.

Hermione stared back at Williams, unyielding. "I saw enough," she countered and added with a bluff. "And I know everything, therefore would be in your best interest to cooperate, Officer Williams."

"Or what?" He asked, cracking a smile for the first time Hermione had come to know the captain. His words, laced with a threat, made Hermione uncomfortable. He stretched out his arms as if to survey the room around them. "What precisely are you going to do here? In case you haven't realized it you are very far from London. In fact, Miss Granger, I should caution you. People die all the time in the jungle due to careless decisions _._ "

Hermione reached for her wand holistered at her back instinctively although she did not draw it. Williams was right. She was far from any support and wading in territory far outside her jurisdiction. But despite the very real anxiety rising in her chest she refused to betray her fear. Her expression was impenetrable.

She tightened her jaw, "What are you going to do?"

"Me? Absolutely nothing, Miss Granger. Well, I shouldn't say that. I have a great deal left to write in this after action report about yesterday's excitement. You, I imagine must be quite busy with your own report to write as well. So busy, in fact, that you will be unable to do little else for the duration of your time here. Isn't that correct?"

So he was going to secuester her in her room. Hermione was suspicious this would be the end of matters. There was a very real likelihood that Williams would not let her leave the island alive. But in the moment there was little else she could do but go along and buy herself some time. Hermione nodded with feigned resignation, "Very well. And I assume you will expect a _glowing_ report?"

"I leave that up to your good judgement, Miss Granger," he said with the same hint of smile. 

Hermione went back to her room where she began to calculate her options. Communications were impossible as she had learned on her first day. Therefore she had the choice to wait it out and play along like a curtailed bureaucrat or try to escape the island. The former plan relied on Williams simply allowing her to leave in the two days time, perhaps with the promise that she didn't disclose anything damning. This idea seemed entirely unlikely. Williams did not strike Hermione as the type to leave loose ends or let her go on goodwill. Even without knowing how much Hermione knew, he was not about to risk jeopardizing whatever operation they had going on.

Which meant her second option was to escape. Hermione did not like this plan much either but given her options she wasn't sure she had much of a choice. Even once she found a way to get away that still meant she had to survive in the jungle and somehow get to the ship when it arrived in a day or so. Her mind raced with what if's.

 _What if she ran into the escaped werewolves._

 _What if she missed the ship._

 _What if_

 _What if. . ._

"No," she said aloud and the conviction in her own voice was enough to draw her back to the present. _I have no choice. I have to get out of here._

Once Hermione made the decision to escape she set herself to getting what she needed. It gave her a sense of deja vu as she packed her necessities in a charmed rucksack she had transfigured from one of her leather duffle bags. Living on the run with Harry and Ron so many long years ago Hermione had learned a few tricks for just the occasion. Although she was not ecstatic to be putting her survival skills to use once more at the very least she felt a calm resolve in the knowledge that she could do this.

 _First things first I have to make it out of here,_ Hermione thought _._

Hermione waited until 3AM before making her escape. She knew it was her best chance because most of the guards would be asleep and those still on duty were likely to be drowsy and less vigilant. Thankfully there was no one posted near her door as Hermione crept down the narrow hallway.

She wished she had Harry's invisibility cloak but made do with the vast shadows casting coverage for her path. Hermione came upon one guard as they both turned down the same hallway. He gave her a startled look but couldn't get the words out of his mouth before she quickly cast a stupefying spell. He dropped to the floor in an instant and Hermione felt slightly bad as she stepped over his unconscious body.

Hermione darted from behind one tent to the next as she made her way closer to the entrance of the camp. And then suddenly there came a sound that stopped Hermione cold. A piercing howl filled the air followed by a chorus of other wolves. There could have been twelve or more, it was hard for Hermione to tell. It sounded like it was coming from beyond the wall. Hermione jumped back as one of the walls she had been standing near gave a violent shake. Sirens began to blair as the guards in the watchtower sounded the alarm that they were under attack.

There was another shake of the wall accompanied by a loud boom. The wall nearest her gave way partially to expose several creatures fighting to break through the camp's defenses. Hermione's heart was beating out of her chest as she stifled a scream and took off in a sprint as far from the wall as she could. She did not look back even as she heard another boom and shrapnel of stone and wood flew past her.

"DEFENSES ARE DOWN!" A guard yelled but his voice was muffled by the deafening sirens and the snarling sounds of the creatures breaking through the walls. Hermione had her wand out as she continued to run through the camp, no longer caring whether anyone saw her.

The guards began to fight off the intruders with spells ricocheting in various directions around Hermione. She tried to stay out of the crossfire but came close to catching a hex in her arm as she stumbled upon a guard in the grips of one of the creatures. A split second too late, there was nothing she could do to help the young wizard as the creature snapped his neck with its massive claw. Standing there mere meters from the being, Hermione could not make sense of what she was looking at. It was half-wolf, half-human but drastically different than the werewolves she had seen before. It was twice the size of a normal werewolf and bore red glowing eyes.

The creature flung the dead guard and turned its gaze to Hermione. Another guard came at the creature screaming in rage, sending a bolt of lightning from his wand at the intruder. Hermione didn't wait to see how the situation unfolded and kept moving quickly. She could see the entrance in the distance, the glow of torchlight lighting her path now. To her relief the gate was partially ajar from what she could see.

Hermione picked up her pace even as the destruction weighed in around her.

"THEY ARE SURROUNDING US!" Williams yelled out from the center of the camp.

She looked over to see him and several other guards fending off the wolves with various spells. Their wand's magic lit up the camp in a sickening hue of blues and reds. The wolves circled in closer and closer until they sprang at once. One guard fell to the ground, screeching in his death throes as several werewolves descended upon him. Williams and the other guards soon met the same fate to Hermione's horror. A quick survey told her that there were three more nearby wizards nearing a similar end.

But there was no time to help them. Not if she wanted to survive herself.

With a white-knuckle grip on her wand Hermione fired a hex as one half-human half-wolf assailant raced at her. There was a flash of blue light as the creature was thrown back into a collection of tents. Another two creatures emerged from the shadows in the distance, their partially canine features illuminated by the camp's torchlight. Hermione shot a look around to see that any remaining guards were too far away to come to her aide as they fought off the other werewolves. Hermione deduced the odds were not in their favor. They were outnumbered and even with the use of wands, it wasn't going to be enough to stop them.

It was no more than a split second before she looked up to see one of the werewolves descending upon her. Hermione felt her back hit the cold wet earth with a crack, the force stealing the air from her lunges. She gasped, reflexively throwing her arm up to block the werewolf's jaws. Instead of connecting with her throat she was able to keep it's face away by pushing back on its forehead even as it's entire weight barreled down on her.

She screamed, trying to fight back but her legs were immobilized by the creature's body. In the fall Hermione had lost her wand so instead she grabbed what was closest: a sharp rock. By now adrenaline was coursing through her veins as Hermione took the rock and hit the werewolf as hard as she could in the head. It was enough to force the creature to relinquish her from it's grasp and double back in a painful angry howl.

Hermione was quick to get to her feet, snatching her wand from the ground. She wasn't fast enough though as the werewolf was already mid pounce. Suddenly there was a blur of movement and the attacker was tossed into a nearby campfire. Hermione became the least of the werewolf's concerns as it tried to roll out of the flames, writhing in pain as the fire licked it's body.

"Why what do we here," said a voice from the shadows. "I thought I smelled you. We never got to finish our chat."

A cold shiver ran down Hermione's spine as she recognized Fenrir Greyback's familiar low voice.

"Get back!" She commanded. He sauntered from the shadows dressed in a prisoner's gray linen uniform, his blonde hair was down to his shoulders and his golden eyes flickered in the firelight. She wasn't even sure how he had gotten out but decided that particular detail did not matter. What did matter, however, was staying alive.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Fenrir had the sense to raise his hands as if to show he was unarmed even as he moved towards her. Hermione took a step back for every step he advanced; they both know he did not need a wand to do harm.

"Go ahead and kill me but you should consider that I might be your best chance of making it out of this alive," he said in quiet tone. Both of them looked at the carnage around them. Hermione saw several guards fleeing into the forest with werewolves on their heels, the rest were dead on the floor. Although Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if he had orchestrated the entire attack, she knew she had now one more difficult choice to make that day. She was alone and her chance at escape was dwindling fast.

Which is why Hermione didn't have time to question Fenrir's help or consider a better option. She tried instead to hide the pleading in her voice as she spoke the bitter words, "Help me."

"Come with me," he said as he took off towards the gate. As Hermione had suspected it was half ajar but only because someone, or something, had torn it open. Hermione's mind was racing with a million different thoughts as she trudged quickly behind him. She could not grapple with the idea that the only person who could save her at this point was Fenrir Greyback. The Death Eater's resident vicious werewolf. The very same one that had promised to bite her so many years ago.

And here was his chance.  
Why didn't he take it? Did he have something even worse planned for Hermione?

She didn't speak, in fact she did not even dare breathe for fear of the other werewolves catching her. The only sound was the quiet crunch of the leaves beneath their feet and distant chaos of the camp. Fenrir's pace was much faster than her's and she struggled to match his stride. Even so she refused to complain, not when she was simply grateful to be alive. When they finally stopped Hermione found herself leaning against a tree to catch her breath.

Fenrir looked around to make sure they were alone. She trusted his heightened senses at least would give them the advantage of knowing if anyone was following after them. Fenrir stripped off his dull linen prison shirt and Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What are you doing?"  
He tossed the shirt to her. "Put it on, it will help mask your scent from the others."

Hermione hesitated. She couldn't help but gawk at the werewolf's muscles now exposed, the runic tattoos and patchwork of scars adorning his skin. Suddenly her mind projected the scene from her dream and she tried to dispel the image without blushing.

"We can't wait here all night woman, put the damn shirt on," he said impatiently.

Hermione did not like being spoken to in such a manner however she liked the idea of being eaten alive by werewolves even less and therefore quickly followed Fenrir's command.

She slid the shirt over her blouse and they continued trekking deeper into the island jungle. Neither spoke another word for several hours. By now the adrenaline was beginning to leave her system as fatigue took over her tired limbs. It was hard to process the massacre that had just ensued before her eyes. Did this mean the entire island had fallen to anarchy?

It wasn't until the early signs of daylight broke through the jungle canopy that they stopped moving. Their spot to rest was under the roots of a massive ancient tree. The ground beneath it had given way, creating a space sheltered enough from view that they would be safe.

"We can stop here; the others will be settling to sleep during the day. No one will be out hunting for now."

 _Hunting._ The word made her stomach churn at the thought of the infected prisoners chasing her down like prey. Hermione had worked so hard to advocate for werewolves and the fact that they were just like any other witch or wizard every other day of the month and yet she had just witnessed them kill in cold blood.

"What happened to them?" She asked aloud although the question was mostly to herself.

"You mean you're shocked that a group of violent criminals just committed violent crimes _?_ "

"It wasn't even the full moon," she said, ignoring his condescending remark. "But they were...different. Something terrible."

"Ah, you can thank our fantastic warden for that," Fenrir said drily.

"What do you mean?"

"You truly have no idea what has been happening here do you?" Fenrir asked.

"I don't," she said sharply. "That's why I came here in the first place. To uncover whether there are grounds for charges against him. If the warden has been committing any crimes I need to know about them. What can you tell me, Fenrir?"

"So the ministry received my letter afterall," he said.

"Your...letter?" Hermione said with wide-eyed surprise.  
"What's wrong woman, didn't know the big bad wolf was literate?"

To credit his question she had not in fact considered he could write a letter. Least of all could Hermione have imagined that the whistleblower for Wolf Island would actually turn out to be Fenrir Greyback: UK's most notorious werewolf. But at least it resolved one mystery that had puzzled her since she first received the case.

"I bribed a guard to smuggle it off the island. He was a nice bloke. Too bad I don't think he survived last night. I figured if it did get in the hands of some Ministry official they would send someone out here but I didn't expect it to be you. It must be my lucky day," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Must be," Hermione retorted. Was Fenrir Greyback flirting with her? This was neither the time, nor place nor _person._ However Hermione would have been lying to herself if she didn't find his golden eyes on her captivating. _No,_ she chided herself for such a thought.

"So the allegations in the letter are true," Hermione said mostly to herself, her mindset shifting from survival-mode to work-mode seamlessly.

"Yes," he said and suddenly there was a shadow in his expression. "All of it. They treat us worse than prisoners back there were failed experiments of the prison's sick project. Who knows what they were trying to achieve. There are countless others that simply vanished."

"I will make sure you and the other prisoners receive justice for what's been done here," Hermione vowed. Fenrir merely laughed.

"Justice? When has the Ministry ever cared about justice when it comes to werewolves let alone convicted criminals. I think our lot is the least of their concerns."

"I care and I have made it my job to make sure the government cares too," Hermione said. Fenrir was impressed with her assurance although he doubted it truly extended to a felon like himself.

"I did not get to thank you for saving me earlier," Hermione said. "So thank you for that. Why did you though? Last time we met you were trying to bite me."  
"Who's to say I am not planning on it still?" He said, flashing a mischievous smile that reminded her a little too much of the one he had in her dream. She kept that detail to herself and narrowed her gaze. "Relax, I promise I won't bite you...unless you ask nicely. I am a reformed man after all."

"Somehow I doubt that," Hermione said.  
"How about I saved you so that you could put a good word in on my behalf."  
"You committed countless war crimes, Fenrir."  
"As did others and last I heard the Malfoys didn't see a day behind bars."

That much was true and Hermione understood the werewolf's bitterness. In truth all the magical creatures that had aided Voldemort had received far harsher punishments than most of the wizards that had followed the maniac. Money bought a lot of things including freedom as was the case with the Malfoy family.

"I cannot make you any promises," she said hesitantly.

"But you can try," he replied.

"If you help me get off this island I will do what I can," Hermione answered.

"That's as close to a deal as this werewolf can hope for from a witch," Fenrir said. "And lucky for you I think I might have an idea."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"There is a small radio center on the western side of the island. Long distance communication has been down for awhile but there should still be a short distance radio that could help," Fenrir said.

"I could contact the ship," Hermione murmured in understanding, perhaps they would luck out and the vessel would already be in distance to pick up the call and arrive a day early. It was wishful thinking but they had to try.

Fenrir nodded, "and it will at least put you closer to the docks for when it does get here."

"How well do you know the island's terrain? How are we possibly going to find our way there in this jungle?" Hermione asked.

Fenrir shrugged, "Back when the island's prison colony was originally established they gave us a lot more freedom and had us inmates help build up the different sites. A lot of the paths we used back then are overgrown now but I am sure I can still pick them up if I try. It won't quite be a walk in the park but we can do it. "

"Okay, I think that will be our best bet then," Hermione said. Her mind felt fuzzy from fatigue and the thought of the trek ahead made her even more weary. She curled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. Her eyelids were heavy and just as soon as she closed them she felt a black veil of sleep descend upon her mind almost instantly.

"You should rest," he said and Hermione forced herself to lift her head. She was surprised to see the concern in the werewolf's expression. "I will take the first watch."

"No, I will do it," Hermione replied back but she was so exhausted the words sounded weak as soon as they left her lips. She was depleted of any last bit of adrenaline from the night's ordeal but Hermione was desperate to find some energy to stay away. Despite the fact that he had rescued her Hermione would not let herself forget who he was beneath the playful banter and alluring eyes. He was a killer, a _monster_ in the truest sense of the word. But she had to trust him and most surprisingly her inner voice was telling her she _could_ trust him. On what grounds? She wasn't even remotely sure. Never in a million years would Hermione have predicted she would be relying on the former ally of the Death Eaters to stay alive and yet here she was sitting beside Fenrir Greyback under a hollowed tree trunk surrounded by things that wanted to kill her. If he had wanted her dead there had already been numerous opportunities for that.

"You can't even keep your eyes open, witch," he replied. "Go to sleep. You are going to need the energy for our journey ahead."

He turned his back to her and stared off into the jungle, effectively ending the discussion. Hermione reluctantly obliged, leaning back against the earth and root matter and falling asleep within moments. Thankfully, she didn't dream of a particular werewolf this time and was instead blanketed by an inky black oblivion. That peace was shattered a few hours later when she woke to a bird screeching overhead. Hermione opened her eyes, still dozing on and off, and for a brief second she didn't see Fenrir but a large hulking gray wolf. A few moments later she opened her eyes fully and it was gone. Instead it was Fenrir once more, his back still turned to her as it had been when she fell asleep. She convinced herself the strange sight had simply been a trick of a half asleep mind.

"Rise and shine, beautiful," Fenrir said over his shoulder when he noticed her stir.

"How long was I out?" Hermione said, trying to ignore his too-friendly greeting and the creeping blush it elicited from her cheeks. She didn't hear endearments very often, not even when she had been dating Ron, and it momentarily caught her off guard. She hated to admit she liked the way it sounded in Fenrir's deep voice. _Get ahold of yourself,_ Hermione chided inwardly. _Also note to self stop reading so much Jane Austen._ Although she doubted she would follow through with the latter as the tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice was a permanent fixture of her bedroom nightstand.

She leaned forward and felt the prison shirt stick to her back from the jungle's humidity.

"Just a few hours but we need to get going now if we want to make some distance before sunset," he said as he stood to stretch. Hermione blinked when he extended a hand to help her up. She took it cautiously and got to her feet as well. 

Hermione dug through her rucksack, grateful that she still had it after the chaos of the escape. She took out a water bottle and offered Fenrir the first sip. He took a drink before passing it to her, the water was warm but given how parched she was Hermione still found it refreshing.

"Quick thinking to have grabbed supplies," Fenrir remarked as she put the bottle away.

Hermione hesitated before answering, as though weighing whether she wanted to tell him the truth. The witch determined that for the time being they were on the same side and she had no trouble telling him, "I was already in the middle of trying to escape when the werewolves attacked."

"And where were you going to go?" Fenrir said as the two began to walk.

"The docks, or at least as close as I could get to them without being caught. Williams knew that I had my suspicions and made it very clear that my life was in danger."

"Ah, I see," Fenrir said. "The captain was a very dangerous man, you were smart to try and get away."

After they had been walking in comfortable silence for a bit, Hermione broached the question that had been on her mind for awhile. "May I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Are you infected? Like _them_?" Hermione asked. It was a sensitive subject. However she considered it to be one of great importance as it pertained to her own immediate safety. Had Hermione not been so exhausted from their escape she would have thought to ask it sooner.

"No," he said briskly and there was a shadow in his expression that Hermione found uncomfortable. "I am not like them. You can tell by looking at the eyes. Those that had received whatever potion the prison was cooking up have those glowing red eyes."

Fenrir paused and turned to look at Hermione, his gold eyes meeting her brown ones. "See? I am perfectly sane."

"Define sane," Hermione said bluntly and Fenrir laughed.

"Valid point, witch."

"You know I _do_ have a name," she said as they continued walking. Hermione was not sure why she cared what he called her or why she felt compelled to fill the silence with conversation. Every bit of the past 24 hours seemed far removed from the life she had known until recently.

"Yes but Your-Royal-Highness-Pain-in-the-Arse seems a bit long," Fenrir replied with a grin.

"Fenrir Greyback, the UK's most feared werewolf and evidently the resident comedian," Hermione said.

"How did you know I did stand up on the weekends?" he replied and Hermione hated to admit she enjoyed the banter as it lifted her spirits even just briefly.

"If you prefer it, I will call you Hermione," he said in a more serious tone.

"I would," she said.

"Then I only ask that you call me Fenrir."

Hermione hesitated, unsure of whether she liked the idea of knowing him as simply Fenrir. She was still struggling to synthesize this version of the werewolf with what she had thought him to be. More importantly, how could she find Fenrir Greyback in the least bit charming?

But even in her moment of doubt she nodded, "Fenrir it is."

She wondered if Fenrir had sensed her hesitation but if he did the werewolf said nothing of it. Instead there was a flicker of a smile on his lips as they continued onward.

Hours passed and Hermione was grateful to see a tall tower in the distance just as the first drops of rain began to fall across her face. By the time they reached the radio center Hermione and Fenrir were being pelted by the rain as a storm descended upon them.

"Wait here," Fenrir said as they approached the tower. "I will go make sure it's clear first."

He did not give Hermione time to respond before he disappeared into the brush. Hermione lost sight of him altogether and for several long minutes she stood shivering in the rain, clutching her wand in preparation that they might not be alone. Hermione suppressed a yell of surprise when Fenrir eventually re-appeared behind her.

"All clear," he said.

They quickly made their way inside the shack perched beneath the tower. Made up of only one room it was mostly full of cobwebs and shelves with some antiquated manuals. Hermione took her wand and cast a spell to light the torches in the room. She spotted a small desk, the entirety of its surface taken up by the radio system.

Hermione dropped her rucksack by the desk's chair, going over to radio and turning on the switch eagerly. To her delight it actually turned on, which at least settled her first fear that the machine wouldn't be functional. However there was nothing but a loud hum of static at that was foreboding. She turned the dial several times, switching between channels only to hear the same static played back each time. Fenrir was standing nearby, arms crossed against his chest as he watched in curiosity.

"Do you know how to use it?" He asked.

"Sort of," she said. "My grandpa fought in WWII back in the day. He kept a lot of his gear and used to let me play with his old HAM radio when I was a kid. This has a similar set up but I'm not getting anything; I think it might be because of the storm though." 

Hermione didn't want to admit that it could also simply mean no one was in range. Or that the device was in fact broken. There were a lot of things that could explain why it was nothing but static but Hermione did not want to dwell on those possibilities. Not yet, at least.

"Then we wait until the storm ends and try again later," he said and nodded to the nearby furnace . "We should probably get a fire started. I would normally be afraid it would attract the others but I don't think they will be out in this weather. And I am more concerned about the particular shade of blue you're turning."

Hermione frowned at the remark but the chatter of her teeth confirmed the werewolf was likely right about her appearance. She lifted her wand to the furnace and it burst to life with a steady flame. Fenrir sat down near it and she turned away from the radio equipment to join him.

"Why aren't you cold?" She said, noticing Fenrir looked perfectly fine if not wet from the rain. She tried not stare too much at the way the rain drops glistened on his bare skin.

"It's a werewolf thing. Our bodies run warmer than normal mortals," he explained.

Hermione was fascinated although she was wary to ask too many questions. In her work dealing with magical creature law she had learned to walk a fine line with clients as she tried to come off as their ally without expecting them to divulge more than they cared to share. Most beings she had met, particularly werewolves and vampires, were secretive about their kind and Hermione tried to respect that.  
"I can see you are dying to ask me more," Fenrir said as though reading her thoughts.

"I do have a lot of questions," she admitted. "But I do not wish to pry."

"We have time and little else to do. Ask away," he said.

Hermione and Fenrir spent the rest of the evening in discussion of various topics, from pack hierarchy to the variations of traits among werewolves. Hermione was enthralled by the knowledge of the werewolf's hidden world.

Fenrir was surprised by his own willingness to divulge the information to an "outsider" but a stray thought flickered across his mind. _Hermione isn't an outsider._ He could feel instinctively just by being in such close proximity to the witch that she was something more.

Something _special._

He tried to convince himself that he was bored and found her conversation entertaining. Or perhaps more grimly, that he didn't believe they would really make it out of this situation alive. His human thoughts ran parallel to what the wolf within him was trying to convey.

 _Her scent_ , the animal within urged. _She smells different than any werewolf or witch._

Fenrir's conscious mind did not know what to do with such information. In all his long years of existing between two worlds he was stumped for the very first time as to what this meant.

He had sensed the difference in her scent long before now. Back to their very first encounter there had been something unique about Hermione that captured his attention but the werewolf had written off until now. And even sure he wasn't certain what it meant.

Eventually the evening deepened and Fenrir could not help but silently laugh as Hermione fell asleep midsentence. The fire began to dim and the cabin's comfortable warmth waned as the storm outside raged on. As Hermione's body slumped forward where she still sat Fenrir unthinkingly scooped her up as he leaned against the cabin wall. She slept soundly against his chest, the unnatural heat of his own body keeping her warm.

Eventually Fenrir too succumbed to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Hello dear readers, thank you for your patience in waiting for this update. As I have said before my writing schedule takes the back burner during grad school. Finals are over and I have a week off before my next course so I will be trying to get as much written as I can!

 **Chapter 5**

 _This is nice,_ Hermione's thought as her mind lingered between sleep and consciousness. Only a moment later did she realize that the reason for the warmth was the large arms enveloping her frame and the sleeping werewolf they belonged to. Hermione's breath hitched at his close proximity, his naked chest rising and falling beneath her. She was caught between wanting to pry herself away as quickly as possible and the strange desire to linger in his arms a little longer. From her angle Hermione could admire the stubble of his face, the map of scars on his chest and arms. There was tattoos on his skin that look faded, perhaps from the sun or more likely because of Fenrir's constant transformations. She wondered how old he could be, his features placed him middle-age but she knew from his history he had to be much older. _Do werewolves age the same way as wizards?_ Hermione wondered.

She looked at him admiringly for several more long minutes. Hermione was embarrassed to admit the dull ache his intimate presence stirred in her, reminding her of that all too vivid dream.

 _Get ahold of yourself,_ she silently scolded herself. Hermione was a grown woman of 28-years-old; while she did not have a long list of eligible bachelors in her life she was certain Fenrir should not have crossed her mind in _that_ way. She forced herself to pull away from his grasp even though to her surprise she felt physically reluctant to do so. She admitted there was something comforting in the warmth of his embrace but convinced herself it was the trauma of the previous night's ordeal that had her feeling that way. Thankfully Fenrir continued to sleep, unmoving, as she stood up and stretched. The rain had stopped but the interior of the cabin was still cool. Hermione absently rubbed her arms in response to the goose bumps rising on her skin.

Noticing the way her breath condensed in the air in front of her, Hermione retrieved her wand and cast a spell to once again reignite the fire in the furnace. A rush of hot air pushed out from the iron gate as the fire cast its heat within the small space onecemore.

Hermione gave an approving nod to her handiwork and went to the radio to turn it on. The static greeted her, the same familiar noise from the day before. She tapped a button and spoke into the microphone.

"Hello? If anyone is out there please come in. This is Hermione Granger and I am stranded on Wolf Island. Please…if you hear this acknowledge."

She stopped speaking both unsure of what more she could say but also aware of the growing quake in her voice. She let the static go on in the background as she waited for the reply that would not come.

Her heart sank as she stared at the ancient contraption as though she could will someone into answering. Surely the ship that was returning for her would be attempting communication with the prison before long. But if the captain received no response would he assume the worst? Hermione could not help herself but wonder what would happen if they never returned for her. Surely someone would send out a search party, she thought to herself. But that could be days or weeks too late. Hermione tried to imagine how those in her life would react if she never came home. Her poor parents, who never quite understood their daughter's life as a witch, would be confused and broken. And her best friend Harry, the man she adored like a brother, would once again lose another one of his loved ones. She even thought of Ron with some bittersweetness.

Despite being her exe, their lives were irreversibly connected and she knew him well enough to know he would blame himself if she died here on Wolf Island. He would tell himself the end of their relationship was what pushed Hermione to take the assignment regardless of whether it was true. Hermione closed her eyes and forced back the tears that threatened to seize her. She had to get off the island. There was still so much left for her to do in life. "Enough," she whispered to herself. There would be a time to cry but it wasn't now. She had to keep her thoughts on survival. _You are stronger than this_ , Hermione ordered silently as she mentally regrouped.

"I see you are up and about," Fenrir remarked behind her and Hermione spun away from the radio set. He was still sitting on the ground, his back against the cabin wall. "No luck?"

She shook her head, pushing her dark thoughts from her mind as she found her words. Hermione was relieved when she kept a level tone when she spoke. "No, but I am going to keep trying."

"Is everything alright?" Fenrir asked and Hermione felt the scrutiny in his gaze. There was something about the intensity of his gold eyes that made her feel as though he could read her thoughts. Hermione reassured herself that she was pretty sure he wasn't a Legilimens. He was standing now and moved closer although Hermione was afraid if he tried to comfort her she might not be able to hold back from the despair edging into her mind.

She waved off his concern. "Yes, just disappointed that I haven't heard any comms yet. I will keep trying though, it's still early in the day I think."

He nodded, "Don't fret too much. It might take a few more attempts. In the meantime how about we sort out a breakfast."

"I have these," Hermione went into her pack and offered a few MREs. She could tell by Fenrir's disgusted expression that he had no intention of eating the prepackaged food.

"I think I have eaten enough of that shite to last me a lifetime, I'm going hunting for real food."

"Be safe," she said reflexively as the werewolf went to the door. He looked over his shoulder with a faint smile and gave her a wink before disappearing into the forest beyond the threshold.

Hermione sat in the silence of the cabin briefly after Fenrir left. She refused to wallow in her situation and set to work at what she did best: coming up with solutions. Hermione took a hair tie out of her bag and tamed her long curls into a messy bun, twirling her wand between her fingers as she paced the floors of the cabin in concentration. Hermione began to think of what she could do to improve her odds of making contact with the ship.

 _What if I made a way to expand the radio's signal reach?_ The idea popped into her head and she knew it held merit. For the same reason she could not send a patronus (that had been her first idea when she had found herself in trouble) she knew there was no way her magic was strong enough to send a message back to UK across such a great distance. _But what if I could expand the radius for even just an extra 10, 20 miles…_

Hermione stopped fidgeting with her wand and directed it at the machine. She closed her eyes to draw strength for the spell and at once she felt the air hum with magic in preparation. She felt the magic expand and surge as she uttered the words that would strengthen the radio waves and their reach. After a few moments Hermione set her wand down to test the success of her spell. She moved quickly both in eagerness but also because Hermione was not sure how long the magic would last.

She turned on the device and listened to the static for any signs of life. _Nothing._

Taking a deep breath, Hermione exhaled and pressed on the radio to speak: "If anyone can hear this please respond! This is Hermione Granger and I am on Wolf Island. The island has...fallen and I am in desperate need of help. Please, if anyone can hear this please respond!"

The witch repeated herself several more times but after awhile she simply sat back and waited. Hermione was about to lose hope when a voice broke over the static.

"MISS GRANGER ARE YOU THERE? COME IN PLEASE!"

Hermione lurched forward and grabbed the device in desperation.

"Yes! I-I-am here!"

The voice was hard to hear at first but the static faded slightly enough for her to recognize the captain's voice: "I heard your message. What happened? Are you alone?"

"The werewolves overtook the prison during the night. I don't think anyone else survived. It is just myself and one of the prisoners, Fenrir Greyback. He helped me escape."

"I see," said the disembodied voice of the captain. "There is no one left then…"

"Captain, please. I need you to get here as soon as possible. And if you can alert the Ministry—"

"I am sorry dear but neither of those things will be happening."

There was a long gap of silence that befell the conversation as his words registered with Hermione. She felt her heart plummet to her stomach in panic.

"What do you mean?" She said as she fought and failed to control the volume in her voice. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN CAPTAIN?"

"I cannot risk the lives of my crew for one woman by docking on that forsaken island."

"One woman? I have a name! Please, if you leave me here I will _die."_

Hermione had imagined many contingencies to her plan on using the radio but somehow her imagination had not precluded the terrifying scenario she now faced: she was going to be left to perish because the weight of her life wasn't deemed worth the risk.

"We all have to make choices, my dear. I choose the safety of myself and my crew, you chose to advocate for the worst of the worst. It is a terrible fate no doubt but you must reap what you sow. You understand, I'm sure."

"If you won't save me you must send for help from the ministry!" She pleaded. Hermione knew that if the captain would send message to the government it would take longer for her to be rescued but she still could stand a chance.

"I'm sorry dear but the decision was made long before you came into the picture that if the island was to fall no one would be allowed to leave. It is out of my hands."

She was on the precipice of complete rage and utter anguish but her mind was racing to find a solution, holding on to that last thread of logic that could turn the situation around. She considered bargaining for her life or threatening him and then settled in between:

"They will come looking for me even if you don't! The Ministry will send people to investigate and I will tell them what you did! I will tell them how you left me for dead!"

"We both know that you won't live long enough for that to happen," he replied matter-of-factly. "Good bye Miss Granger."

And then there was silence. Just like that she felt her hope of ever escaping disappear altogether. Hermione wanted to hex the radio into oblivion, the machine that was supposed to bring her salvation had just bore her death sentence. Several long moments passed and Hermione felt as though she could not breathe.

Her whole world felt as though it was spinning.

 _Elsewhere_

Fenrir followed the scent of a jungle fowl but kept his other senses sharpened for any signs of threat. Save but the buzz of wildlife around him, the werewolf could tell that he was alone.

His thoughts continued to drift back to the witch waiting for him to return back at the cabin. It was thanks to the solitude of the hunt gave him a chance to consider the implications of the pull she had on him. Fenrir had picked up something unique to her scent those long years ago in their first encounter but it seemed the longer he spent in her presence the more he felt affected by her. There was something about Hermione that drew Fenrir, not just on the mortal level but on the wolf's instincts.

Although he had told her he saved her for his own interests, the truth had been more puzzling for him. In the chaos of the evening he had saw his chance to escape and would have just as easily slipped into the darkness of the jungle. But just as Fenrir was on the cusp of freedom something, _or someone,_ had halted him in his tracks.

He had felt her fear as clearly as it was his own. Surrendering to instincts, the wolf within him had taken over and lead him to Hermione's exact location just in time.

Fenrir had a hunch as to what the connection meant but he was apt to ignore it if only because the magnitude was difficult to process. However the question still lingered: could she be the one?

Was Hermione his mate? Fenrir knew from the lore that the chances of a werewolf finding their true soul-bounded mate was rare. Incredibly rare, in fact. Fenrir was not sure how he would even broach such a subject with the witch.

But before he could give it any further thought Fenrir stopped suddenly. He turned on his heel as he sensed Hermione once more. He could feel her anguish and found himself bounding back in the direction of the cabin before the werewolf was even completely aware.

When he got back to the ancient cabin, Fenrir was relieved to see that Hermione was unharmed and alone. She was staring at the radio set, her lip trembling. She turned to him and spoke before he could ask what was wrong:

"No one is coming. They are going to leave me here to die," Hermione said in one breath as though if she took too long to say the words she would crumble altogether.

Fenrir, to her surprise, took her in a comforting hug. She buried her face in his chest as hot angry tears sprang from her eyes. Hermione hated feeling weak, she hated her own vulnerability. And while she was listing the things she hated: She hated that she was trapped on an island full of violent werewolves gone rabid. But she didn't hate Fenrir. She still wasn't sure she could trust him but for now he was her only ally.

Hermione pulled herself away, exhaled hard and wiped away any evidence of the tears. She allowed herself that brief fleeting moment to fall into duress but now she needed to figure out what her next step would be. Once she was sure her voice was stable Hermione relayed the conversation she had with the captain.

Fenrir shook his head in disbelief. "Even the bloody captain was in on what was going on here then."

Hermione sat down in the dusty chair by the radio, nodding. "It makes me wonder how far Wolf Island's reach goes and who is behind it all. But the only way it will ever even matter is if I can escape."

"There may be one more option," Fenrir said. "But it is going to be risky."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thank you for the immense support and understanding dear readers as I trudge along with school work. When I posted the previous chapter I half expected no one to read it because it had taken me so long to update; imagine my happy surprise to be greeted by all the kind reviews. I love hearing your theories and thoughts! But even just a couple words of encouragement are wonderful too as it let's me know you are still following along this journey.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

"Go on," Hermione said. Risks seemed inevitable given the state of their circumstances.

"I am not even sure if it will pan out," he prefaced. "But there was a rumor for years that the warden kept an emergency portkey in his office. Us prisoners used to fantasize about getting ahold of it and escaping."

Hermione nodded, "I've been to other prisons where that was standard in case there was a mass emergency. But I assume the catch is we have to go into the main facility to even find out of if there is one?"

"Correct and the place is crawling with mutated weres. It would be very dangerous for us to go in there," Fenrir said plainly. Despite the dangers he spoke of the werewolf didn't seem to indicate his feelings one way or another. And that was when Hermione realized he was waiting for her to decide.

"If there is a portkey I need to do whatever it takes to get to it. And maybe I can get definitive proof of the experiments to take back to the ministry," Hermione said aloud softly. Even in the middle of trying to survive she still considered the original purpose of her assignment. Hermione thought about the option of waiting for reinforcements and briefly entertained the idea but she was not sure if the authorities would ever reach them in time. It could be weeks before they discovered what had happened, especially if there were entities actively working to keep the truth hidden such as the ship captain. Who knew who could be trusted back in the ministry either Hermione thought bitterly but that was another matter. She voiced these thoughts to Fenrir.

"You have a tough decision to make," he said. "But I agree, sitting around and waiting in hopes help might come is probably not the wisest choice."

"So I will go in," Hermione said.

" _We_ go in," he amended.

"You have done enough for me Fenrir, I can't ask you to do this."

"Well then it's a good thing I didn't ask for your permission to help," he retorted. "We made a deal and you can't hold up your end of the bargain if you're dead."

Hermione cracked a grateful smile. "Okay then, we are in this together."

By midafternoon the pair had devised the quickest path to the main facility in which they could remain mostly undetected. Hermione listened closely as Fenrir described the general layout of the main facility, closing her eyes as if to commit it to her mental map. They planned to create a diversion once they got closer to the site and hopefully draw the werewolves away long enough to sneak in. It _was_ risky but it was the best shot they had.

So they left behind the shelter of the old cabin and trudged deeper into the jungle. Hermione found herself trusting Fenrir's innate sense of direction as he lead the way, stopping in her tracks whenever he did so to sniff the air or scan the horizon. She saw only dense foliage but imagined Fenrir could discern much more. They walked in quiet companionship for several hours before settling down on a low hanging tree branch to rest.

"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione eventually asked.

"Hmm?"

"How long have the experiments been going on?"

"It's hard to say," Fenrir said as they walked. He slowed his stride so they could walk side by side while they spoke. "Things started to change when Warden Connelly took over. The colony was privatized around then, so maybe six years ago? That's about when I started noticing some of the others acting strange or disappearing altogether."

"I'm sorry no one intervened, Fenrir. This shouldn't be happening."

"There is no point in apologizing, wizards have a long history of abusing weres. When I realized what was going on I wasn't surprised, it seemed like only an inevitability."

"Is that why you fought for Voldemort?" Hermione asked, realizing only afterwards that it might have been a very direct question to ask him. She was aware from the testimonies of the werewolves that had fought alongside the Death Eaters that this had been part of their agenda. She didn't fault them for their motivations, Hermione loved being a witch but as a Muggleborn who only joined the wizarding community at eleven-years-old she had long abhorred the inhumanity with which the wizarding world treated magical creatures. It had been the source of so many arguments in her school years with her classmates that saw nothing wrong with the discriminations. In fact the injustices she had witnessed had been the catalyst for her entire career path.

"He promised my people a place in his world," he replied. "In the end I had my suspicions that even if he had won we might not have been any better off but I had to do what I thought was best for my pack."

Fenrir's gaze grew distant and Hermione could tell the mentioning of his pack had been a sore subject for the former packleader. In his strength he had forged what only could have been described as an army, a vast network of werewolves that followed under his command.

Before Hermione could ask anything further, he abruptly ended the discussion. "It doesn't matter now. Whatever remained of the pack has scattered and I am here, stuck on an island of wolves gone mad."

"I have to say I'm surprised you're not leading _them_ ," Hermione said.

"They don't respond to pack hierarchy," he said and Hermione asked him to elaborate.

"Every werewolf has an innate sense of where they fall in a pack. Even those who live among wizards. It is a survival mechanism that gives a pack and thereby its leader strength. Bigger packs take over smaller packs, constantly adding to the pool of the pack's magic. It was a necessity back in the days packs waged war on one another. But the weres that have been experimented on don't adhere to any sense of pack hierarchy. They are chaos. They devour anything in sight and turn on each other constantly. Like I said, they are wolves gone mad."

"I see," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Perhaps we can use their disorganization to our advantage then."

When they finally decided to settle for the night, Fenrir and Hermione chose a small cave for their shelter. It wasn't nearly as accommodating as the cabin had been but Hermione figured it would have to make do. She was about to cast a spell to start a small fire for them but Fenrir advised against it.

"There are other weres on the hunt tonight," he said. "We don't want to draw any attention to us."

"I don't have the ability to cast complex wards on my own but maybe a concealment charm will keep them from finding us."

Hermione retrieved her wand and raised it to the entrance of the cave. She whispered the words and a hazy blue mist became a mesh in front of her before disappearing altogether.

"And this will keep us hidden?"

"See for yourself. Go stand outside the cave." She said with an air of smugness. If there was one thing Hermione had confidence in it was her ability to conjure a good charm.

He did so and seemed to marvel at her handiwork. "Interesting. The entrance is completely undetectable but I can still smell you."

Hermione tugged him back inside the cave's protective charm. "I don't think it will hold up if someone really wants to find us but it will at least give us a little security for the night."

Fenrir nodded. "I will take the first watch, you should get some rest."

"You took the first watch last time and never woke me up to take over. _I_ will take the first watch."

"I don't need the sleep," Fenrir said.

"And neither do I," Hermione replied although the werewolf knew that wasn't true. Despite her best efforts to conceal her fatigue Hermione was not accustomed to the rigors of trekking through the jungle. If not from her sheer will to stay alive she likely would have collapsed hours ago.

"Are you always this stubborn?" He asked but there was no malice in his voice as a subtle smile tugged at his lips.

"Yes, it is one of my defining features so you might as well get used to it."

"Duly noted," Fenrir said and seated himself against the cave wall. Beyond that he made no inclination to rest, apparently keen to wait Hermione out. In turn Hermione did the same, leaning against the opposite wall. The darkness of the cave had felt eerie at first but by now Hermione's eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and she appreciated the peace.

Neither spoke for awhile but Hermione could see the werewolf was still awake, merely occupied with his own thoughts as she tended to her own. She wondered about her loved ones, if they were wondering about her yet. Hermione had briefed everyone that she likely wouldn't be able to send an owl from her location so they didn't expect to hear from her. By her estimate it was midday back home; Harry would be out on an auror assignment, Ginny would be in the Quidditch field training for the new season. Hermione even found herself imagining what Ron could be doing. _Probably sweeping the floors of his brother's shop,_ she thought to herself. Her exe had wanted to be an Auror like Harry but lacked the drive, failing out of the academy within the first year. It had been one of their frequent arguments because Hermione knew he had so much more potential. Ron had chosen to work for his older brother not because he wanted to but rather because the job was easy. It was safe.

It was hard for Hermione to judge him now. After all, she was the one fighting for her life because of her chosen line of work. _Amazing what a life or death situation does to one's perspective,_ Hermione thought wryly. Her predicament only seemed bearable thanks to Fenrir's companionship.

As though perhaps reading the direction of her thoughts Fenrir broke the silence and asked, "what is on your mind?"

She spared him the overarching melancholy of her train of thoughts and replied, "it is still hard to imagine that I am sitting here in a cave with you and…"

"And?"

"And grateful for your presence," Hermione said and meant it. Even in the absence of light Fenrir's golden eyes glimmered as he watched her but his expression hid his feelings. She could tell there was something he wanted to say but refrained from saying the words aloud.

"You are certainly a far ways from London," he said, clearly not the true sentiment he wanted to make. "Do you have someone waiting for you back home?"

Was Fenrir Greyback asking Hermione if she was single? It wasn't the first time since their encounters Hermione wondered about the motive of his flirtations. Surely he was just making idle conversation, Hermione had difficulties imagining anything beyond that. The witch shook her head. "No, not really. We broke up before I came here. He was ready to settle down and I wasn't."

"I see," Fenrir said quietly, still obviously considering something.

Hermione chose to take the most direct route: "Is there something you want to tell me Fenrir?"

He grinned widely, "Is forwardness another one of your defining features?"

"Yes," she replied matter-of-factly and repeated her question once more. "Now answer my question, is there something you want to tell me?"

"No, not really," he said finally with as much honesty as he could muster. _Not yet._ How could Fenrir broach the subject of her possibly being his mate when he himself was still grappling with the idea? He still could not fathom the magnitude of the implication that he had found her. _Her._

 _The one._

When Fenrir had held her close earlier that day it had taken every restraint not to kiss her and feel her lips against his own, to steal away her sadness and protect her from her pain. He had never felt such strong stirrings for anyone as he did in that moment.

Eventually Hermione relented on the subject but perhaps only because Fenrir asked her about how she came to defend magical creatures. Fenrir showed a genuine interest in Hermione's work, by now clearly impressed that the witch cared so deeply for the plight of not just his kind but other non-wizard beings. If he had not found her remarkable before he certainly did now.

Despite Hermione's best efforts as the night wore on she found herself fighting to stay awake along side the nocturnal werewolf.

"Come here," he said and patted the ground beside him. Hermione hesitated only briefly before joining him on the other side of the cave wall, appreciating the warmth that radiated from his close presence. Hermione had lost the battle to stay awake but decided she didn't care as she rested her head against his shoulder. What struck her in those last fleeting moments before she slipped into a dreamless sleep was how natural it felt to be by the werewolf's side.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note  
Hey all, thank you for the continued support. School is underway for me, hence the radio silence with answering messages and sharing updates. I used to feel a pang of guilt about these no-writing seasons now I just accept that it's what my life permits. I have a few chapters of Wolf Island written and waiting to be published so that is good!  
**

Chapter 7

The next morning they set out on foot once more after Fenrir was confident whatever werewolf had been nearby the night before was long since gone. They drank from the last of what remained in the canteen Hermione had packed and made the note that they would need to prioritize locating fresh water if they were going to make it the their destination.

Fenrir had described the path they would take to the main facility. They would make their way through the old mining ravines to get to the other side of the island. It was longer in distance but easier to navigate then the jungle and there was the added possibility of finding some useful resources.

The werewolf continued to lead the way, pushing through the dense brush as Hermione trailed behind him with far less grace in her movements through the vines. Whenever he would have them stop to rest Hermione was quite positive it was only for her benefit. However by the early afternoon even Fenrir seemed to be moving slower thanks to the island's oppressive humid climate.

For their latest break they sat side by side on a slow moving river bank. They had both removed their shoes and were enjoying the cold water against their skin. Hermione closed her eyes and for a moment pretended she was on a tropical vacation. With the water rushing across her legs she could imagine she was floating on an inner tube down a lazy river. _Maybe with a margarita. No,_ she amended, _a mai tai._

Hermione shook herself from the fantasy, however pleasant, and honed back into the present.

"Enjoying yourself?" Fenrir said and Hermione opened her eyes to see his golden eyes on her. She had to laugh at herself in mild embarrassment.

"Just imagining I am on an island vacation," Hermione answered.

"Well you are on an _island_ but I wouldn't consider it 5-star accomodations," he joked. "Personally I am not one for this bloody heat. Give me the snow and mountains any day."

"If I can I ask, where are you from Fenrir? I couldn't help but notice that sometimes you have a slight accent when you speak."

Fenrir didn't respond initially and it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps the werewolf did not like to divulge details of his past. There was so little known about UK's most menacing werewolf even after all these years. It was safe to assume that Fenrir preferred it that way. And furthermore just as she had her doubts about trusting him, why had she not considered he had similar reservations of his own?

All these thoughts occurred to her at once but before Hermione could retract her question, to her surprise, he answered:

"It was a small magical community nestled in the Galdhopiggen mountain range. I doubt anyone still lives there now," he said wistfully. "Even as a child I recall there being so few of us as most villagers had moved on to more habitable places. The winters were unforgiving, especially for us poorer families."

"Why did your family stay then?" Hermione asked as she pulled her legs out of the water to let them dry.

"We had existed on that land for centuries as far back as when our viking ancestors claimed it for their own. It was part of our heritage," Fenrir said, speaking slowly as if to choose each word deliberately.

"But like I said, I am sure there is nothing there now although I have not seen my homeland in many years so I couldn't say for certain." After a moment he chuckled and Hermione gave him a puzzled look before he elaborated. "I've never told anyone any of that in all these long years but here I am telling you."

"I won't tell anyone," Hermione promised, understanding the privilege of being privy to his origins. "Your past is safe with me."

"I would appreciate that; it might tarnish my reputation of being the boogeyman if word got out I was just some bloke from the mountains," Fenrir said with a joking smile. Hermione could see behind his mask that there was some relief in hearing her promise. To Hermione's surprise, she _wanted_ his trust and beyond simply because he was helping her escape but for a deeper reason she couldn't quite rationalize.

Instinctively Hermione placed her own hand over the werewolf's scarred hand and the sensation of his warmth shot a bolt of electricity through her. Hermione was suddenly leaning closer, her lips dangerously close to his. Just as Fenrir was to close the gap between them Hermione moved away with a startled look in her eyes.

Her cheeks flushed as she pulled back, apologizing profusely as she gathered to her feet and spun away in embarrassment. What had overcome her? Surely she had not just tried to make a move on Fenrir? Hermione reminded herself that she was a professional and that everything about the situation was wholly inappropriate on her part.

 _Get ahold of yourself, woman,_ Hermione scolded herself in what had not been the first time since crossing paths with the werewolf. Why was she so drawn to him? In trying to regain her senses Hermione did not heed Fenrir as he called her name.

She had gone and made a fool of herself, replaying it in her mind with the lens of harsh self-criticism.

"Would you please come back here," Fenrir said in mild exasperation as Hermione kept walking into the jungle. The last thing he wanted was for her to step on a snake in her haste to stomp off.

"I am sorry, Fenrir. I shouldn't have done that," Hermione said when she finally stopped. "I don't know what came over me—"

"You feel it too then?" Fenrir asked and the question seemed to fill the air around them. She turned slowly to face him. He motioned at the space between the two as he stepped closer to Hermione. _"This."_

Her heart was racing as she tried to discern what _this_ could entail. The magnetic pull of his presence? Or perhaps it was the way she felt on fire whenever those golden eyes looked at her. In truth, Hermione had never experienced such a complex whirl of emotions about a person and had nothing to compare it to.

"Yes," she said quietly and lifted her gaze to meet the thoughtful expression on Fenrir's face. He brought his hands to cup her face and this time when his lips came close to her's she didn't hold back but rather surrendered to her own desire. The passion in Fenrir's kiss that rose to meet her own was enough to make Hermione's head whirl. Suddenly he was pushing her against a tree trunk, his lips moving to trace the outline of the tender skin along her collar. This elicited a moan from Hermione that only seemed to spur the werewolf further. As she pressed her hips against the friction in his pants and it was his turn to make a noise of pleasure.

It wasn't long before they were both undressed, Hermione digging her nails into Fenrir's shoulders as his deft fingers slipped between her legs and found her center. Hermione arched her back into the pleasure of his fingers inside her, feeling the ripples of her own climax even as she begged for him. She wanted him, all of him and demanded it with feverish desire. When Fenrir finally plunged inside her, he was moving quickly and soon she could feel his breath on her skin hitch in his own spiral of pleasure.

When they both had finished they settled against the tree trunk, which gave Hermione an admiring view of Fenrir's naked body as they both tried to catch their breath. Hermione didn't want to think about what boundaries she might have crossed or what it would mean for her in the long run. She was still revelling in the bliss and by Fenrir's dreamy look, he was too.

They would need to talk about matters eventually but not now. Not in the stolen moment they shared together.

They rested awhile in comfortable silence before getting dressed, Hermione struggling to find her knickers for an awkward moment. She remembered she had left her boots back at the river bank and so they retraced their steps to where their things were still waiting for them.

"Can we. . .can we talk about what just happened ...but later?" Hermione eventually asked. There would be time enough later to sort through whatever existed between them. Fenrir looked more than a little relieved at hearing her request, nodding. "Of course. But for the record I wouldn't mind doing that again."

Hermione was just about to reply that the idea had merit when Fenrir raised a hand to stop her from speaking further. His entire posture shifted suddenly from relaxed to on guard and Hermione felt the tension radiating off of him as clearly as though it was under her own skin.

She didn't speak but scanned the scene, seeking to see whatever had caught his attention. Fenrir was transfixed on something in the distance but spoke in a low voice, "Get your pack and run. Run as fast as you can and do not look back."

"I can't-" Hermione began to protest but he turned quickly on her and there was a darkness in his demeanor that startled Hermione.

"Go! I will draw them away!" He commanded, pointing in the direction they had been moving towards all day.

She didn't want to leave him but was compelled by the tone of his voice to heed the urgent command. Hermione snatched her bag and sprinted as though her life depended on it-which given the circumstances she conceded it likely did.

Hermione put distance between her and where she had left Fenrir, never looking back even as she heard the blood-curdling howl of a werewolf.

 _Keep running,_ she commanded herself despite the burn in her muscles.

 _Run. Run. Run.  
_

Even as her legs took her further and further away, her mind was still on her companion. She prayed to every deity she could think of that he would be okay.

He had to be okay, Hermione said silently over and over like a mantra willing him to safety.

Suddenly Her eyes darted to the tree line where she saw a flash of movement. She cursed under breath, drawing her wand from its hollister just in time as she prepared to defend herself. The werewolf sprang out of the woods and she struck it with a hex in midair, a flash of blue lightning striking the beast and sending it backwards.

Hermione had only a moment to regain her stance before another red-eyed werewolf charged at her with blinding speed. She fired another hex but this one missed its mark and the werewolf continued to barrel down on her.

She hit the ground with a violent thud and looked up to see a different werewolf had blocked the attack with its own large body, taking the majority of the derange creature's momentum head on. The newcomer was bigger than the ones she had seen thus far, it's grey fur gleaming in the sunlight. The werewolf cast her a quick look before returning its golden eyes to the foe in front of them.

"Fenrir?" Hermione whispered in a mix of awe and confusion as he launched himself at the attacking werewolf that already recovered. Hermione couldn't believe what she was witnessing: Had Fenrir shifted in daylight?

They snapped and snarled as they circled one another. Hermione was paralyzed with horror, wishing she could help but fearing that if she cast a spell it would hit Fenrir by mistake. The mutated werewolf lunged forward and bit Fenrir's left paw hard enough that Hermione could hear a sickening crack of bones. Fenrir let out a vicious snarl and was able to free himself by biting back at the other werewolf's face.

When the rabid werewolf dove at Fenrir moved deftly to the side and pounced, sinking his deadly fangs into its throat. The fight was over in an instant as Fenrir tore through flesh and fur, savagely ripping away at the life-giving arteries. There was a brief moment that Hermione feared the bloodlust had driven him into a frenzy as he devoured his enemy and turned his gaze to Hermione. There was one brief chilling moment in which Hermione thought she might be next.

The witch stood perfectly still but did not look away from the werewolf in the eerie silence. Whatever fears she had in that moment Hermione chose to quell them. Trusting her instincts Hermione holistered her wand and extended her hand to the werewolf standing before her.

"It's me," she said softly and felt as though she could see the recognition return in the werewolf's eyes.

After a pause he slowly moved towards her until her hand was gently touching the wolf's massive head. In the blink of an eye the wolf shifted before her back into the man. Fenrir was covered in blood, both his own and that of the other werewolf. He was pale and the wound on his arm was bleeding freely. There was only enough time for Hermione to help catch him as he crumbled, unconscious.


	8. Chapter 8

**[ Author's Note ]  
Hi readers. I don't have much to say but thank you for the encouragement in the form of your continued reviews and faves. I know it has been awhile but as you know I am in the trenches of grad school which sadly doesn't leave me much mental space for writing. I'm still here, still working on my WIPs but just moving at a glacial pace.  
**

 **Chapter 8**

When Fenrir awoke abruptly he was momentarily disoriented by his surroundings. It was dark and he was laying on a makeshift cot, a tattered blanket covering his bare chest. He felt a cool compress on his forehead that smelled of a strong potion. The space he was currently in appeared to be some sort of shed although calling it that much was perhaps too generous. It had four walls that were rotted through in certain spots but in the corner there was a set of shelves with a handful of scattered items, including an opened med box. Fenrir surmised that was the origin of the healing potion working its magic on his injuries. He realized he was in what remained of a supplies shed. Back when the island still had a mining operation Fenrir remembered the prison had set these up along the routes as small outposts so that mining details didn't need to return as frequently to the main site. The one that he was currently in appeared to have been mostly picked over by now, either from when the prison guards had shut down the mining or by the other werewolves.

Fenrir looked around for Hermione but she was nowhere to be seen and the werewolf's heart began to race with a jolt of worry as he recalled the attack.

 _Had she made it out alive?_ He retraced the events, trying to remember what had happened before he had blacked out. He remembered the fallen bodies of the enemy werewolves and the pain of his wounds. The frenzy of the other wolf's blood and the adrenaline of the fight had been an overload to his senses. He could still feel the copper taste of blood in his mouth.

And then he remembered her face looking at him.

 _Her face._

There had been fear but also understanding in her gaze. And then another worrisome thought arose for him: Had he hurt her? The thought made him sick; Fenrir had always prided himself on control even in his other form but never had it been tested to such extent. _Especially now_ , Fenrir thought as he bitterly acknowledged that he was no longer the same werewolf he had once been prior to becoming an inmate and test subject of Wolf Island. He was still working out the nuances of what he was now but a part of him secretly feared that he might be closer to the rabid werewolves rampaging the island than he wanted to admit. The wolf within him had always been an intricate part of his identity and yet more and more these days there were moments he felt estranged from it.

Fenrir sat up slowly, wincing at the sharp pain in his arm. He looked down and saw that the wound from the fight was healing but still tender to any movement.

"Oh thank goodness you're awake," Hermione said as entered the shack carrying her canteen in one hand and her wand in the other. There was clear relief in her expression as she went to his side.

"There was so much blood. I was worried that-" she stopped herself and amended to a more positive direction. "I am just relieved you are okay. I wasn't sure if the potion was expired or-"

Without thinking Fenrir reached over and pulled her in for a kiss. Hermione, although surprised by the gesture, reciprocated the kiss and felt a wash of emotions not entirely her own. It was difficult to get a sense of where his began and her's ended but Hermione was sure that she could feel what he was feeling as though it were a fingerprint on her mind.

When they pulled apart Fenrir was looking at her searchingly. It was the same expression he had worn several times since the night he rescued her, a mixture of caution and wonderment.

"Now might as be as good of time as any to talk about what is going on between us," Hermione said. She didn't want to add that given the gravity of their situation there might not _be_ another time. She had other questions she wanted to ask him like how he could transform in the middle of the day but this one felt more pressing at the moment.

"There is no easy way to explain this," Fenrir said. "And I didn't want to say anything until I was absolutely sure but I know it's true...you are the one, Hermione. You are the one I have been searching for my entire existence. My mate."

The words _my mate_ seemed to hang in the air but really it was only part of an altogether very loaded sentiment. On the surface she had not expected such a profound declaration and yet… and yet _she_ knew as well. Hermione Granger, Miss-Know-It-All and Queen-of-Logic, had never believed in love at first sight. She rolled her eyes at the thought of falling in love with a stranger. But she couldn't deny what she felt in Fenrir's presence and how she was more attune with him than she had ever been with anyone else. Hermione had rationalized that any attraction she felt surely must be a side effect of their stressful situation and nothing more but the excuse didn't not settle on her heart. Deep down Hermione could not ignore the instincts of what she felt too.

Whatever eloquent statement Hermione had wished to say came out only as, "what does this mean?"

"I don't want to overwhelm you," Fenrir said in hesitation. It was hard enough to tell a modern woman that she was his mate but harder still to include that according to werewolf customs, the bond between mates extends past time and space. That they were destined find one another over and over across lifetimes because their paths were bound together.

"I think we are past that point," she remarked and he laughed.

"Our destinies, our magic, are intertwined. You have sensed it, I can see it in your eyes, the way everything feels—"

"Right. Everything with you feels right, Fenrir," Hermione finished in a hush. "Like it's meant to be. But you have to understand even though I believe you and I want whatever _this_ is...it is still a lot to process"

Fenrir nodded. "Then we can leave things where they're at for now. All I care about is making sure you are safe, Hermione. But on the subject of being honest with you I wasn't entirely forthcoming when you asked if I was like the other werewolves."

Hermione frowned, not particularly keen on the direction of their conversation. "You were experimented on, weren't you?"

"Yes," he said and Hermione made a very subtle movement away from him. Fenrir tried ignore that her sudden reservations toward him hurt but understood they were valid. "I didn't tell you because I am _clearly_ not like them and I did not want to give you reason to worry further. I don't fully understand all that they did to me but I promise I will not hurt you."

"I don't appreciate that you kept this from me," Hermione said with honesty. "But I understand why. So you can transform at will?"

He nodded. "I am getting quicker with the transformations but it can still be taxing afterwards. I haven't been able to test my limits as I had to keep this a secret from the guards."

"They didn't know?" Hermione asked.

"No, after they injected me whatever was in the damn potion I remember them saying it must have failed and sent me back into the gen pop. The side effects were excruciating and I nearly thought I was going to die from the agony. They left me to rot in my cell, I think they assumed I would die as well. It was a bloody miracle I survived. After about three days I recovered but felt different. Instead of feeling the wolf's presence closer to the full moon, I felt him every waking moment just beneath the surface. Trusting my hunch I waited until I was alone in my cell and transformed. I am not sure I could do it frequently without expending a great deal of energy but it has its uses."

 _It certainly did. Like saving both of their asses._ Hermione's mind still went back to seeing him in wolf form, the bloodlust in his eyes as he tore apart his foe. The way he had looked at even her in that moment. "And there are no other side effects?"

Fenrir understood the caution in her question and it panged him that he might have given her renewed reason to distrust him. "I promise there isn't any. I am not like _them_."

"I know," she said. "I believe you."

Their conversation was interrupted by a chorus of howls. They were close, dangerously close. Hermione reached for her wand, clutching it with a white-knuckle grip and pointing it at the door.

Neither spoke with the knowledge that any sound could draw their enemies to them. Fenrir knew that in his current state he would be in no state to fend them off again. But he would. Until his last dying breath he would defend Hermione. Adrenaline and the wolf within him's mounting agitation gave Fenrir the strength to gather to his feet.

Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her ears and thought the sound was deafening. Neither the witch nor the werewolf moved, straining to listen. The howling had stopped but as the minutes past Hermione could feel a mounting sense of dread.

Fenrir inhaled through his nose, sensed the proximity of their pursuers and suddenly grabbed her hand. "We have to go," he whispered. Hermione grabbed the remnants of the med pack, shoving it into her bag as they took off into the forest. Hermione knew Fenrir was still weak from his injuries but even in his current state he kept pace with Hermione.

They didn't get far from the dilapidated shack before the first werewolf pounced, he struck Fenrir and they disappeared into the brush. Hermione spun just fast enough to blast another werewolf with her wand.

"Fenrir!" She called out but there was no time to check on him before two more werewolves attacked. They circled and Hermione found herself struggling to keep them in front of her. Even as she was calculating how she was going to handle the two werewolves Hermione could see the outline of six, perhaps even eight more stalking forward from the shadows.

Hermione clenched her teeth and not for the first time she told herself this wasn't where she was going to die.

Not here.

Not like this.

But Hermione was all out of tricks. Panic rose in her chest but her sense of self-preservation overrode her fear. Hermione would die fighting.

She struck the first werewolf with a hex that set it aflame. The creature howled in agony and moved erratically to escape the pain of its demise. The other werewolves hesitated, watching their comrade be engulfed by the spell's magic, before they continued advancing forward. Hermione cast hex after hex to keep them at bay.

But it was only a matter of time before one of the werewolves got close enough. It leapt at her back and Hermione felt the searing pain of claws tearing into her flesh as she hit the ground.

And then darkness engulfed Hermione.


	9. Chapter 9

**[Author's Note] Thank you to everyone who sticks by this writer even as I battle the saga that is school work. I had a lull in my normally busy schedule this week and found the time to put this chapter together while also starting the rough draft of my newest Fenmione, Zig Instead of Zag. It hasn't been published yet but I look forward to sharing the first chapter after I complete Wolf Island.**

 _Hermione was running, her legs aching as she tried to escape her pursuers. It didn't matter, a voice inside her head whispered. They were going to catch her. There was no where she could go. She looked back and saw six giant wolves getting closer and closer. Their red eyes glowed through the darkness. The shadows of her surroundings cast a heavy a blanket on her senses. It was disorienting. There was no way to tell what direction she was running nor did she know how she could evade them._

 _She fell and the wolves descended, devouring her._

Hermione awoke from the nightmare shaking with terror. She tried to sit upright but found herself restrained against a metal bed. Tight leather straps bound her head, arms, legs and chest against the cold surface. And to her concern, secured to her forearm was a steady IV drip whose contents looked of questionable origin. Hermione panicked and made several futile attempts against the restraints but recoiled at the pain evoked by the movement. Each tug of her arm against the restraint shot excruciating fire up her limbs that radiated across her body and forced a cry from her lips. Her vision was blurred but slowly she regained enough of her senses to see the dark room she was in resembled a medical wing.

It was empty and devoid of any light save the unnatural hue of glowing green potions illuminating the nearby shelves and a dim enchanted lantern that floated around the space. Her thoughts went to Fenrir and another surge of panic rose within as she tried to remember what had happened to him.

But it was pointless. Hermione had no way of knowing what befell of Fenrir any more than she knew what had happened to herself. She prayed that he had survived but there was a deep sickening in the pit of her stomach at the uncertainty. A part of her refused to believe that he was dead but Hermione wondered if this was merely a denial of the likelihood, a means to postpone her own guilt of putting him in danger or avoid the threat of mounting grief.

 _Grief._ Her heart hurt at the thought of Fenrir's death.

"He's alive," she said the words aloud as though to banish the dark thoughts from her mind. However the sound she made was less intelligible and more of an undignified croak. Regardless it broke the spell of dark thoughts and Hermione began to formulate what her next steps needed to be.

 _I need to get free and then I can find him, after that we find the emergency portkey and get the hell out here,_ Hermione thought and the plan seemed so straightforward in her mind. There were of course several glaring details that blocked her path. Hermione's wand was nowhere to be found (she made several attempts of "accio wand!" before concluding the wand was long gone). Secondly even if she wasn't restrained Hermione was not sure she could physically move within any speed or strength. Not only did her body hurt, but her skin felt clammy and she wasn't sure if the lethargy she felt was due to whatever was in the IV or something else entirely.

Hermione eyed the IV still steadily dripping into her arm and she worried about what was being put into her. And then she retraced her last memory, recalling the infected werewolves leaping upon before she succumbed to unconsciousness.

Her arms were scratched from the fall but Hermione shifted against the metal bed and realized that her true injury was on her back. She felt the bandage there and the source of the overwhelming heat radiating through her body.

Hermione let out a horrified gasp as she realized she had been likely bit by one of the werewolves.

 _I'm infected,_ she thought. Her mind began to race with what this meant. Would she become like them? If so, how long did she have? Hermione thought of her fate as becoming one of the rabid creatures and shuddered at the vision.

"Oh good, you're waking up. Welcome to the land of the living, Ms. Granger," suddenly there came an unfamiliar voice from the darkness. Hermione jerked her head to the side and immediately regretted the movement as it drove knives of pain into her skull. Entering the far corner of the room stood a figure, his white lab coat tinged with the green glow of the potions behind him.

He turned on the lights and Hermione winced in pain as the stark fluorescent lighting revealed the full interior of the room.

"What did you do to me?" The words came tumbling off her lips before she could think of something more adequate to say to the stranger, like where was she and how did he know her name.

The man bore gray hair trimmed short and a well-trimmed beard and mustache. He looked to be in his sixties, his olive skin worn with wrinkles. Two dark brown eyes stared at Hermione behind a set of thick black rimmed glasses.

He didn't seem to pay any mind to her question, merely touched her forehead as though she were an inanimate object. A specimen for him to examine. His fingers felt like ice against her skin. "Interesting," he murmured.

"Don't touch me," she snapped and the violence in her voice was enough to give the man pause. In truth Hermione was caught off guard by how foreign it sounded coming from her. It was absolutely _feral._

"You seem to be responding well to the treatment," he said plainly. The man pulled up a stool to where Hermione laid but as he did so he let the metal of the chair grind against the floor, causing a screech that made Hermione wince. 

" _What did you do to me?"_ Hermione repeated, forcing her voice to be level.

The man said nothing for several long minutes and his black eyes were transfixed on Hermione. She looked back at him expecting to see nothing but madness but was more disturbed by the calm focus she saw instead.

"You are participating in the next step of evolution. But really you should thank me, Ms. Granger. If not for my doing you would have been nothing more than a little snack for my pets," he said. "Lucky for you I haven't been able to test my potion on a female subject so may I just say thank you for your contribution to science." 

"Contribution? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME!" She yelled and the effort wracked her whole body with agonizing pain. Her voice echoed against the austere walls of the medical room.

"Calm down please," he said. "I can't have you hurting yourself and damaging the process. You will see soon enough. And please pardon my lack of manners, it has been awhile since I have had human company and I must be a little rusty. Would you like some water, perhaps? Ever since my pets got out of hand the facility has been a very different place you see. I have had to speed up my schedule. But your arrival on the island couldn't have happened at a better time. History is being made and you get to be a part of it. Isn't that exciting?"

He made a waving motion to the space around them. "This, this is the real Wolf Island. And I-"

"You're Warden Connelly," she said as Hermione put the pieces together. The warden hadn't fallen victim to deranged werewolves after all. He was using them, walling himself off in the main facility to conduct his experiments.

He frowned and was clearly not pleased at being interrupted. 

"I prefer Dr. Connelly; I worked hard for my education as I am sure a bright witch such as yourself can appreciate."

"I would _appreciate_ it if you removed these restraints," Hermione said with thinly veiled hatred.

"Hmm, not yet I'm afraid." The wizard looked down at his watch before looking at the IV and adding "I would give the potion another 20 minutes to work its way into your system. If all goes according to plan you will be my second success. The first being Mr. Greyback, of course."

"Fenrir...Where is he?" She blurted, no longer caring about her own wellbeing at the mention of the werewolf. Dr. Connelly smiled, amused by her reaction. She did not like his response and feared the worst.

"What if I were to tell you he died during your capture?" Dr. Connelly asked and a grim shadow passed across his face.

"No…" she whispered and felt as though her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

"Interesting reaction," Dr. Connelly studied her for a moment, the smile slowly returning to his lips as he reached out and pushed aside a strand of hair that was clinging to her face. The gesture was strangely paternal but Hermione jerked away from the touch, her eyes burning with fury. He was toying with her and something primal and angry within her boiled to the surface. She snarled and might have bit his hand if her head had not been restrained. Hermione couldn't tell if it was her own anger or the infection taking hold but as each moment passed she found it hard to think past her emotions.

The wizard was unphased with Hermione's reaction. "You should be relieved to know that he was alive, at least the last time I checked on him. Greyback, my finest work, and he nearly slipped through the cracks. Can you believe it...I thought my experiment had been a failure with him but really he was the key to unlocking it all."

Hermione was trying to focus on the doctor's words but her vision suddenly was growing blurry again. The pain that rippled through her bones was unlike anything she had ever felt and it stole the air from her lunges even as she let out a desperate scream. 

Dr. Connelly made a shushing sound and Hermione could hear him speaking softly even as the pain sent her into a sea of oblivion. "You want to know what I learned? Anyone can make a monster but to make a weapon you need something _special_. Unique, Ms. Granger. Do you understand? An _alpha_. "

Hermione was desperate to end the pain, to know what was happening to her and to see Fenrir again. But the questions that swirled into her mind slipped away as she lost consciousness.

And then there was only darkness again.

Elsewhere Fenrir paced the interior of a steel room, growing more agitated with each passing minute. By now most of his injuries had healed save but the newest additions to the tapestry of scars on his body. But Fenrir didn't care about any of it. He could sense Hermione's pain as clearly as though it had been inflicted upon himself and that was what troubled him. He needed to get to her but how? Fenrir knew he was inside the main facility, recognizing the austere room as similar to the one he had occupied during the experiments. Fenrir closed his eyes and tried to visualize the layout of the site. If he was lucky Hermione was in the same wing but if not he wasn't sure where else they would be keeping her. And then the trouble of finding the warden's office where the emergency portkey would be stored. _It's on the second floor,_ he thought to himself, trying to recall its location from distant memory. But it might as well be in Egypt if he didn't find a way out the room first.

Fenrir kicked the door to the room with a violent thud but the metal did not even so much as dent under his assault. Just as he paced another lap around the room's edge he heard a sound that pierced his heart: It was Hermionescreaming.

 _No._

The shift between man to wolf came unbidden, the creature within him stirred to life under Fenrir's pure fear of Hermione's wellbeing. Already more wolf than man, Fenrir howled and the sound was deafening in the small room.

He would get to her even if he had to tear down the building brick by brick.


	10. Chapter 10

**[Author's Note] This is the last chapter of Wolf Island. Thank you to all who have patiently waited for this, I know I have the writing speed of a snail riding a glacier. I'm sure you will likely have questions so please keep an eye out for the sequel!  
**

 **Chapter 10**

Triggered by Hermione's distress, Fenrir could not stop the transformation. Somewhere between man and wolf, he stood in the suddenly too small room. He let the wolf's instincts override and used his brute force to hit the locked door. At first there was no sign of weakening but he slammed against it with unrelenting brutality over and over.

A creaking noise came from the metal frame as it began to bend under the monster's sheer strength. After one more hard slam the door gave way. But in gaining his freedom there was a sudden loud alarm that blared overhead alerting his capturor's to his escape.

Fenrir snarled. Within seconds three of the mutated werewolves filled the hallway on either side of him. His snarls grew louder, hackles raised. The other werewolves hesitated, their primordial brains warning them that the much larger werewolf before them should not be challenged. However when the werewolves did not immediately move out of his path, Fenrir charged. Running in the shifted form, he remained on his back feet and used his claws to tear apart the werewolves in front of him. Their blood splattered against the white walls of the prison. One creature instantly fell lifelessly to the ground, the other two remained in the fight but not for long.

One pounced and Fenrir caught it by the throat, hurling it into the other werewolf. It took them a brief moment to regain their wits but Fenrir was already on the advance, making quick work of them with his deadly claws. The taste of blood in his mouth nearly sent him into a frenzy as the animalistic side wanted to relish in it's kill.

 _Find her._ Somewhere deep within his mind, the human part of himself exerted control to keep himself on course. He needed to save Hermione. Fenrir closed his eyes and could feel her pain as though it were his own. He opened his glowing eyes once more and took off in the direction his intuition guided him.

Dr. Connelly frowned as the alarm blared. "Well this certainly puts a damper on things," he said aloud to Hermione's unconscious form. He looked over at the security monitors just in time to see the bloodbath created by Fenrir. The scientist was impressed by the destruction, marvelling in his creation.

A black robed figure came into the room. "We need to go."

"So soon? But I am not finished with this one," Dr. Connelly said as he waved in Hermione's direction. "And she seems so promising too."

"There has been a change of plans, Doctor," the figure said. "Collect what you need but leave her. You will be briefed back at headquarters as to our next step."

The older scientist sighed and retrieved his wand. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered spell, a half dozen parchment scrolls fluttered neatly into a briefcase on a nearby table. He snatched it off the table and followed the other figure out. But not before looking back at the unconscious Hermione. "Goodbye Ms. Granger, I do hope to see you soon."

When Fenrir finally found Hermione he nearly thought she was dead as she laid unmoving on the examination table. He crossed the room swiftly, his form changing instinctively back to man. He removed the restraints, casting a suspicious look at the IV as he removed at as well.

"Hermione? Hermione! Please wake up, my love," he said softly, urgently. She stirred at the sound of his voice and made a soft whimper. An electric shock ran through him when she briefly opened her eyes. Her eyes were a bright crimson reminiscent of what he had seen in the infected werewolves. Was she infected then? Was she one of them?

"No,"he whispered in disbelief. "This can't be."  
"Fenrir...you came back for me," she weakly reached to wrap her arms around his neck. He scooped her up and held the small witch close enough he could feel her breath against his skin. He inhaled her scent. She was still the same as before; she was still his mate. Whatever changes had been made to her he knew for certain she wasn't one of them.

"Of course I did," he said and gave her a tender kiss, she smiled before slipping back unconscious. "Now let's get out of here."

Fenrir consulted a map on the wall of the evacuation route and began his move to get them to the emergency portkey. The sirens continued to go off overhead as Fenrir bounded down the empty hallway. Carrying Hermione, he prepared himself for what he would need to do if they ran into more of the infected. But it didn't happen even as they reached the Warden's office. Just as he turned the doorknob there was distant but distinct rumble of an explosion. Fenrir turned on his step as he heard another explosion follow it.

"What now," Fenrir growled but decided against lingering around to find out. Once into the office he laid Hermione on the nearby couch while he searched for the portkey. He found it quickly. It was a device shaped to look like a ship's helm, emblazoned with a plack that stated: EMERGENCY PORTKEY. Conveniently it had been enchanted to hold itself up against the backside of the wall almost like a decorative piece.

As Fenrir passed by the warden's desk he saw a piece of parchment that caught his attention. Scrawled across the top in black ink was his name. Fenrir scooped up the paper along with several other pieces and put them in his back pocket. There would be time later to examine the confines of the documents but for now he needed to get them to safety.

"Hermione," he said as he placed her hand on the Portkey. "It will all be over soon."

They were whisked away from Wolf Island in a flash.  
They arrived just as quickly as they had disappeared, landing on what looked to be the end of a long pier. If not for the fact that the air was significantly cooler than that of the island Fenrir would have thought they had not actually got away. A fog horn on a nearby ship suggested they were in a harbor. However it was only when he saw the sign that revealed they had made it to London did Fenrir breathe a sigh of relief.

He laid Hermione down on the ground and kissed her once more. "You are safe now."

"Check the landing! An Emergency Portkey just came in!" Fenrir heard the shouts of the harbormen and saw their glowing wands cut through the fog. He looked down at Hermione, wishing she would awake if only so he could say goodbye to her.

For a long moment he considered staying but knew that wouldn't mean they could be together. It tore his soul in two to leave her side but he steeled himself to the decision he needed to make. She would be taken to a hospital and he would be returned to chains, if not back on Wolf Island than somewhere just as bad.

"For what it's worth I know you would have put a good word in for me," he said with a sad smile. "But I don't think that would be enough and I can't protect you if I'm behind bars or dead. Please forgive me, my love. We will be reunited, I promise."

He kissed her one last time just as the footsteps drew closer before leaving. From a distance he watched as the harbormen gathered around Hermione's unconscious form as they were soon accompanied by Aurors and Paramedic Witches. He knew she was in safe hands but felt plagued by the immense weight of his remorse in having to leave her.

Hermione awoke slowly. It was midmorning she guessed by the warm sunshine pooling in from the large window. She was in a hospital bed but thankfully unconfined by any restraints. Her thoughts felt fuzzy like she was in some sort of dream. Hermione tried to piece together the events that had lead to up to the present moment. She remembered pain, torturous pain; she remembered Fenrir picking her up and carrying her away. But after that there was nothing.

"Fenrir…" she whispered.

But he was nowhere to be found.

Perhaps alerted to her patient's status by some unseen charm, a medi-witch entered the room wearing a pleasant smile. "I'm so glad you're awake," she said. "You went through quite an ordeal, Ms. Granger. It's true what the papers have said about you, you are a very brave witch."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, unsure exactly what more she could say to such a thing. "Is the...man I was with alright as well?"

The witch had approached to fix Hermione's pillows while offering her a glass of water on metal tray. She frowned briefly, "Hmm? There was no man with you when you arrived here, my dear."

"Oh," Hermione said. She knew Fenrir was still alive; she _felt_ Fenrir's presence like a fingerprint on her mind. He was alive.

 _Just not here,_ Hermione thought to herself and felt a little colder in his absence.

"But there have been plenty of people asking about you. There's an entire waiting room full of them actually," the nurse said. "I tried to send them away when visiting hours were over but they still stuck around."

Hermione smiled but her thoughts were on Fenrir. Would she ever see him again?

Although she had never been one for superstition Hermione believed in her heart that their paths would cross again. She was reassured by the vague memory of his lips against her own and the tender words whispered in her ear.

 _We will be reunited, I promise._


End file.
